Learning to Fly part one Crash and Burn
by squeekness
Summary: The Game is over but the impact of it has only just begun. Not everyone will walk away from it unscathed, especially one poor battered thief. Epilogue to the Game.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: The Game is over but the impact of it has only just begun. Not everyone will walk away from it unscathed, especially one poor battered thief. Epilogue to the Game. If you haven't read my Game series, you will have no clue what I am writing about, lol, so you might want to check that out before you read this. :)

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

**Updated 10-31-13** to add (break)s as needed and do the usual fixing.

(One)

Nick Fury, head of SHIELD, looked up with a scowl as there was a knock on his open door. "Yes, Jeffries?"

"I think you need to look at this, sir."

Fury grumbled to himself. As if he needed anymore work. The last hour had been an exercise in frustration. He was getting alerts of deviant mutant activity from all over the globe and all at once. Mutants were rare and only the tiniest fraction ever caught his notice, for this to be happening now there had to be some sort of deliberate attempt to scramble his ability to watch his small corner of the world. The scary thing was, this same thing had happened not all that long ago when North Korea was threatening use of its nuclear missiles. The screens of every watchdog agency in the world went a little nutty for about an hour and then when the smoke cleared, those nukes were gone, simply vanished into thin air. For this to be happening again meant something big was happening somewhere.

Fury sat still as Jeffries placed two reports on his desk. "This is a newscast from a local radio station near Clancey, Arizona, sir. They are reporting spontaneous thunderstorms and torrential rain. This was our satellite photo from just a few minutes ago."

Fury looked at the photo, the skies were all clear. Now he knew that while it was difficult to manipulate both the radio station and the satellite feeds that his agency was watching, it wasn't impossible. But why would someone do it so they showed the opposite thing happening? "Do we have people in the area?"

"Yes, sir. They said the clouds just came out of nowhere. It's pouring rain out there."

Fury looked at the reports, quietly stewing for a moment. "Xavier. About damn time," he mumbled to himself. He had an idea that something odd was happening today, but he hadn't expected to be handed this little golden nugget. He had been wanting to find out where the X-men had been hiding ever since the Westchester school had been demolished. All attempts to track their whereabouts had been in vain.

"Sir?" Jeffries asked, unsure what his boss was grumbling about.

"Fire up my plane and scramble a crew. I want us in the air and heading out there in five minutes."

Jeffries paused. "Are you sure? I mean, it could be anything."

"My gut tells me otherwise. Do as you're told."

"Yes, sir," Jeffries replied, saluting quickly before he left.

"Xavier..." Fury mumbled to himself. "Looks like your little weather witch just gave you away."

**(break)**

A great many miles away, deep inside the Arizona Complex, Henry was frantic as he tried to keep up with all of the casualties. The Game had been played outside on the X-men's front lawn as it were, and it was now falling on him to clean up the mess. Now that the bulk of the fighting was done, the walking wounded were finally making it down to his ad hoc hospital.

Henry had prepared for this fight as much as he could, but he could soon see that he hadn't prepared quite enough. The X-men had anticipated that Jael would attack them, but they hadn't counted on his ferocity. There were the usual broken bones and savage cuts, but there were also many folks coming down burned and even partially melted from Jael's use of Dognan energy guns. It was a mess.

While Beast was worried for everyone, his greatest concern was Aiden. He had grown so close to all the Siskans, it was inevitable after having them so constantly around him or detained in his Lab. Though he tried not to show it, losing any one of them would be painful to him indeed and now Aiden's mysterious condition had him on edge. Gambit had brought both Kimble and Aiden down from the fighting and while Kimble had appeared to be simply exhausted, Aiden had reportedly been hit by some kind of energy overload. It was perplexing and somewhat frightening for the big blue doctor - while humans could be medicated and sewn to repair damage, Aiden could not. Things had calmed somewhat outside, enough so that Henry risked taking Aiden down to the Lab for a quick scan.

The results were troubling. Aiden's energy readings were off the charts, he was no longer what he had been before, always something of a concern. Beast had so little data on the Siskans - he was teaching himself on their care as he went along - and so wasn't quite sure how to proceed other than making sure Aiden was as comfortable as possible. Aiden was hot and feverish, his inorganic body sweating a light sheen of gel as it attempted to bring itself under control. There was little Henry could do to assist.

Aiden had slept briefly after Henry had received him but now the Siskan was dreaming and unable to wake, thrashing a bit and moaning, in obvious mental pain if not physical. All attempts to medicate him were useless, he wouldn't sit still long enough to take anything down - not that Henry was at all sure of what to give him anyhow. At least he wasn't vomiting up that strange golden liquid anymore.

There really wasn't anything Henry could have done. Aiden's body was there and solid in the Lab, but his mind was a million miles way. He was changing, finishing a transformation that had begun the moment he absorbed Angel's golden energy. The change could be seen from the outside – his Mark had changed from a pale blue to a rich golden yellow, something new. But as much as he was changing outside, he was changing inside as well.

Aiden was lost inside his own mind. The last Earthly thing he remembered of himself, he had been out on the tarmac and in the thick of the fighting. He had seen Angel there, the one he had come all this way to save, only to next watch her die. He had stood there amazed and stunned as her body split apart, shedding its fleshly shell, and then he was diving for her, for it, the very essence of this child he had grown to love. He only dimly remembered the collision with Angel's ball of energy, he only recalled that it had swallowed him up in searing heat and light. It had vaulted him up into the air and then there had been a rush of data blurring past his eyes.

" 'Elp me!" he screamed out frantically into the storm. "Szomebody! Keemble! Pleasze! Ahhh!"

There had been no reply, only a blur of images he was barely beginning to recognize. The data stream that blinded him had been a playback of his own memories in reverse. He saw himself and Kimble making love only that morning, a quick tumble of warm glorious love, fur and wings. He then saw himself standing in the large communal gym shower with Asher, soaping down the centaur's back as Smee danced in the suds below. He saw Kimble trapped in a sphere of his own making under a tree in the Solarium. That was followed by a blurry image of Angel holding him in her arms, the first time he had met Kimble's Angel for real. The images were coming faster and faster. He saw and felt a vision of Kimble above him and inside of him as they coupled passionately on Kimble's couch, making real love for the first time. This was quickly followed by the sight of Kimble sprawled out on a bathroom floor, trembling hard from what amounted to their first real honest kiss. Aiden then saw that same Kimble walking towards him with a blanket on his shoulders - their reunion the day after Aiden had arrived at the Complex. Then poor Aiden saw Trishnar's murder in the New Orleans palace, a death that was heartbreaking and burned forever into his mind. He next saw an endless stream of clients from his time in Trishnar's harem and then a quick flash of himself leaping through the trees that fronted Trishnar's palace as he chased away a young red eyed Thieves' Guild brat who had dared to break into his Master's house.

Aiden continued to scream for rescue to no avail. He knew what was coming next and he was right. He saw Solestra in all its beauty - Asher's lovely shed barn, Trishnar's parlor, Babette's large bedroom and of course, the giving room where he had been allowed to choose his own skin. After that came Meckland's Lab, the Dognan officer that had given him the worst beating of his life. It came at him, that horrible episode that had shattered him into so many more pieces and then it was gone, followed by another seemingly endless blur of Gladiator battles filled with blood and death. There was a flash of Tillamay, but then she was gone.

Aiden had grown quieter, his panic from the sensory overload fading away into hysterical shock as the data stream wound itself down - he was back on Siska, seeing flash images of Quishnalay, something that hurt as much as he felt tiny sparks of love for his creator that even time had not been able to destroy in spite of how many times he had denied them. Then it all came to a sickening abrupt end and he was floating in a deep black empty space, his body that of a miniature, half formed human fetus, bizarrely illuminated from within, a tiny lamp out in the middle of nowhere.

Aiden knew where he was now - a small tiny file that had remained inactive since the very beginning of his existence informed him that this was his birthing tube, that limbo between idea and creation where all Siskan Courtesans began. He was exhausted now and floating around in the blackness, unable to do anything.

"Aiden?" a voice called out.

Aiden couldn't move or answer, he was beyond that. It was all he could do to simply drift there and breathe. He was, however, slowly becoming aware of a small golden light that was coming towards him from the far away dim.

"There you are."

Aiden saw the light come closer , growing impossibly huge, and then he saw her, Kimble's Angel. She was glowing all golden and bright, a young woman and a girl no more. She was a giant around his embryonic body, making him seem small and insignificant. Her large fingers gently brushed his tiny infant's face. "So beautiful you are. Do you remember what I told you to do?"

"Catch you," Aiden managed to croak, his unfinished voice sounding tinny and broken in the darkness.

Angel smiled at him. "So, are you ready?" Aiden nodded and then she said, "Catch me!"

And Aiden did.

He screamed anew as the data stream ripped through his mind once more, only this time, it wasn't his own memories he saw, they were Angel's. He saw a burning building and then Kimble coming towards him through the smoke, an angel himself. Aiden witnessed a blur of images that followed all with the joy of a child who had never known anything but the purest love - he saw birthdays and toys and playgrounds and endless rides in Kimble's arms as they took flight through the Westchester grounds. He saw a church and a lovely crucifix behind the altar, Remy's hand holding hers as he whispered strange wisdom in her ears - love and truth and honesty and forgiveness and tolerance. There were flash images of Logan's own brand of tough love, self defense classes with just the gentlest brush of a well calloused hand over her head to soothe away the hurts when it was over. Molly was there, voiceless but a true mother in every sense of the word. Aiden witnessed his own first meeting with Angel, only in the reverse, reliving her sense of joy when they had embraced. Always this child had been loved.

It was all speeding up and then it came to the end, to the last day. All along Angel had known who and what she was, though the humans around her were oblivious to it all. She knew she was meant to be sacrificed and that although her physical shell would perish, her energy would not. Aiden had been there to catch her.

The data stream shut itself off and Aiden was once more in the black but this time adult and in his own skin. He was still illuminated and not alone. Angel remained with him there and was now speaking to him. "Do not be afraid. The Game is over, Jael is dead."

"But ze chile..." he slurred in protest, still grieving at his inability to save her. He was reeling from all of this. He was glowing, all the love that Angel had ever known was the light that was inside him now. She was making him glow and soothing the ache inside of him.

"She is here, in me," she replied, not wanting him to worry. "And now she is in you where she can never be destroyed. When you absorbed her energy you won the Game."

"But 'ow?"

"By keeping that energy away from Jael and his Shalayesk machine. If he had taken that energy just as he had from all the other angels, he would have become so terrible you couldn't even imagine. But you, dearest Dreamer, you stopped all that and you shall be rewarded."

"All I ever wanted wasz Keemble."

Angel brushed his face, smiling at him. "Daddy's okay, only badly frightened as you are. Do not worry, everything is going to be fine. The Game is over and the only job you have left to do is keep my Kimble happy for the rest of his life. I have given you gifts to help you do this. Cherish him always."

Aiden smiled then, whispering softly as he returned to sleep, "And 'ere I t'ought you were going to aszk me to do szomet'ing difficult..."

**(break)**

Three floors above where Aiden lay dreaming, and out on the smoky, dirty tarmac, Remy stood at the top of the stairs that lead under the guard shack, leaning heavily on the safety rail. He was exhausted and shaking but had managed to haul his ass up and get back on his feet. This day had been a never ending nightmare. Gambit was a sneak and a thief, not a mercenary, and in spite of his training, hadn't been able to cope easily with all the death and destruction that had gone on around him. He wasn't made for an all out war like he had just witnessed, plain and simple. Kimble had made an empath of him and his shields hadn't been enough to keep his mind from feeling scraped and raw. He had seen Angel die, a child he regarded as his own daughter. He had seen Kimble and Aiden fall from the sky in a cloud of golden glitter, his most precious of Siskans. He had seen countless fellow X-men die before his very eyes. It was more than he could properly take. He could hardly stand he was shaking so badly.

Logan had only just left him to bring Skye and Kristalay down below. Gambit was still filthy with Jason's blood and covered in soot and ash from all the destruction around him. He could figure out by the increasing silence that the Game was pretty much over, but he was uncertain if Jael was dead or alive. The battle had started with Jael's men pitted against the X-men, but then the Outkasts had unexpectedly shown up and blasted Jael's men away. Jael's army hadn't fared well - his men seemed to have been annihilated, reduced to ash in a wall of plasma and fire. Smoke lay like a heavy fog all around, obscuring everything and making things look surreal, like this had all been a really bad dream.

The battlefield had emptied out as the Outkasts had passed him by a few minutes ago, but Gambit wasn't left alone for long. He watched as two figures walked back the way the Outkasts had gone, out of a cloud of drifting smoke, like ghosts from a nightmare. Time and circumstance had placed a great deal of distance between them, but Remy would never be able to forget these two. Never.

The pair came close, stopping in mutual surprise as they saw Remy there against the rail. The larger of the pair came up close and sniffed at him. "Well, well. Look at who we have here."

Gambit swallowed heavily, trying uselessly to put on his best face. His already horrible day had suddenly grown much much worse.

He knew these two all right – Mayhem and Wipeout, two of the ugliest men he had ever seen in his life. It wasn't a matter of physical appearance, it was the fact that Remy had personally seen these two kill on a scale he could never forget.

Gambit was taken by surprise at the sight of them, but also by a frightful understanding - when Butch's crowd had come to the fore and began to fight, he had seen the spectacular show of fire and plasma, but had never thought about who it might have been to wield that power. He had never expected to see these guys again though he guessed he should have known, seeing as how Butch collected omegas such as these for his army.

Gambit couldn't help but be intimidated. For one thing he was seriously battered and bruised already and two, he was seriously outclassed. These two were not alphas as he himself was, they were omegas. Mayhem was an older man, his brown hair a bit long about the shoulders in an attempt to make himself seem younger. It didn't mean he was weak, he was a plasma producer, strong enough to make Neal Sharra look like a sparkler to the sun.

Wipeout, Mayhem's Asian brother in arms, was the master of spontaneous combustion. He looked at you and you burned, it was as simple as that. It had been something that Jael's men had felt for themselves today, but so had countless Morlocks in the past. It took but one look at the man's face to bring Gambit back there, to the tunnels and the Massacre he was personally responsible for.

Of course Remy knew these men, he had recruited them personally for Sinister all those years ago. Wipeout and Mayhem had been best buddies. As if it had only been yesterday, Remy easily recalled how the pair of them had been jovial and excited as they had been brought down to the tunnels. Remy did not know these men and his empathic powers had not been as fully developed then as they were now, but still they had filled him with unease. They had lingered at the back of the pack of Marauders, Sabertooth was leading, and they had giggled to one another like school girls, as if all of this was going to be so much fun. They would shush as Gambit glanced back at them, hiding their secrets, but it unnerved him just the same. They were sharing racial jokes, mocking the poor Morlocks and being typically cruel.

Gambit himself had had nothing against these Morlocks. The majority of them were harmless betas, just poor souls who looked too odd to pass as normal humans. They were generally harmless and unable to protect themselves, precisely why they had to hide away below ground in these disused tunnels. Remy was a lover of art, something he had gained from his time spent with his adopted father, Jean-Luc. He also respected all life, a Catholic teaching that had stuck with him. He saw betas as the work of God's hand and had always harbored a sort of loving infatuation with them, having to keep himself from staring at them at times. They had horns, they had scales, they had skin of all colors. What could be more beautiful? It was no different than his love fascination with Kimble's blended skin, the wings and the fur as soft as satin. To Gambit, betas were living works of art and should be cherished, not hidden away. If hadn't been for his obligation to Sinister and the empty promise he had been given that none of these exotic creatures would be harmed beyond the prick of a needle and little fright, he would never have been there.

Really, Remy should have known how bad it was going to be. Just in the few minutes that it had taken him to get the pack of Marauders into the first deserted alley where he would later lead them down into the tunnel via a sewer hole, God had given him his first warning. An alley cat had squirted out from behind a bag of trash, alerted by their noise, and Wipeout had laughed and incinerated it. Just like that. With a thought, with a blink of an eye. There was a horrible aborted screech and then it was a smoking pile of ash. No care or regard had been given about its pain or the fact that it was a living breathing creature. It had meant nothing to the man who so thoughtlessly destroyed it and so it had been used for his simple pleasure. Gambit, a long time lover of all animals, shuddered with revulsion and hid his disgust behind a sharply hissed warning for silence. They were trying to sneak in here after all. He turned his eyes away from the pile of ash and descended, leading them down.

It hadn't taken long for things to go from bad to worse. Once he had unlocked the final hidden door to where the small band of Morlocks had made their tiny town, the real monsters had rushed past him and the bloodletting began. Smoke and fire and ash and blood. So much blood.

Now, thirteen years later, Remy found himself standing once more covered in ash and blood, his mind struggling with the duality of horror from today and one from so long ago. Two of those murderous monsters from that day stood before him now, unharmed and unpunished for their crimes, not an ounce of remorse in their eyes. No, that old mischief was still there, just as it had been then.

Remy had gathered his bo staff from the ground earlier and he now raised it in front of him defensively. These guys were no better than Jael and there was no way he was going to allow them downstairs. They might have helped to push Jael's men back, but these men would never be friends or allies as far as he was concerned. His body and mind was one huge agony, but he would stand his ground, he could do no less.

Mayhem just guffawed and advanced, moving easily past Remy's swinging staff. The thief was so wasted, he was moving in slow motion without an ounce of his usual grace. Mayhem shoved past the staff and delivered a hard open handed slap to Remy's face just for the insult of it, and then gave the man a shove with a grunt of distaste. He had seen the sorry state of affairs in the X-man in front of him, there was no real threat. What a joke.

Gambit fell back on his ass hard, gasping for breath, his staff rolling away from him as though he had never had a grip on it. He was white as ash, and already he could feel the panic rising again. Just as it did when he had his nightmares, so now his chest constricted and he couldn't breathe. It was ice cold out here in the Arizona heat and it was getting a little grey and fuzzy around the edges.

Mayhem spat on him with a grin and loomed over him. "What's that? You gonna waste me? Pah, what a joke. Good thing we were around today. You were a pathetic little pussy back in the tunnels, freak, and guess what? You still are now. See you around, Cajun." He laughed and he and his friend went down the stairs to the Complex below, slamming the door with a shout of triumph.

Remy sat on his ass, Mayhem's spittle dripping down his chin, and it came down on him hard, what Mayhem had said. It was true, he reasoned. It had to be. He had been a worthless scrap of mutant trash that day in the tunnels and all pretense of having become anything different in the meantime had vanished in his spectacular worthlessness today. It had been his responsibility to watch the stairs, he had failed. It had been his responsibility to keep Angel and his Siskans alive, it looked like he had failed there, too. Come to think of it, had he done one thing right today? For all he knew, his wife was dead down below. Not that he deserved her. He shivered in violent self revulsion and burst into angry tears.

As if in response to his own agony, the sky darkened to its fullest and then with a loud crack of thunder, the rain that had threatened since this began finally fell in a torrent. Gambit was instantly drenched, blood and grime from this day's ugly battle pouring off of him as he was soaked through. Too little, too late, Remy couldn't help but think. As if this could ever wash him clean.

For a moment, he was struck by the terrible unfairness of it all. He had never wanted to hurt a soul in his life, yet it had happened all the same. He had made one stupid mistake after another, never doing anything right, never measuring up. He felt a terrible surge of jealousy, thinking of all of his teammates, the ones who had never screwed up a day in their lives. They could walk in the sun, they never had to hide their secrets or make excuses. They never had to carry this terrible burden. Why? Why had he been so terribly bad? It was so unfair!

Wolverine had no sooner gone back up the stairs and back out onto the tarmac when he saw what had just happened to Remy. He hadn't been far, yet wasn't close enough to stop the assault on his teammate. He broke into a run but halted momentarily when the downpour hit him, a sudden rain like that playing havoc with his senses. The rain was cold and instantly steaming up the hot pavement all around, turning the area into a sort of sauna. It didn't do much for the stink of war, the ground had been covered in too much blood. At least now some of the fires would be doused out.

He resumed his run and came up to where Remy was sitting, the rain not preventing him from hearing the oddest combination of sounds coming from the kid. He was obviously crying, but was choking on it like he couldn't breathe. Logan toed him with his boot, hoping to snap him out of it. "You okay?"

Logan of course did not immediately recognize the two that had proceeded him or their relationship to the poor stricken thief though he had an idea they were members of the Outkasts. Judging by the violent end to today's confrontation with Jael, it was easy guess that most of Butch's guys were hardened criminals and punks, ones who could easily pick out the weakest link and exploit it. It probably wasn't going to be last show of sparks between the two teams.

Wolverine hadn't heard the conversation but wasn't really surprised by the brief scuffle, only that Remy hadn't held his own. It was the first time he had seen the boy go down so easily but he figured it was just the effects of the day. Remy hadn't been combat effective at all - a first - and he was hopelessly trashed, his face bruised and scuffed.

Gambit raised his eyes at the sound of Logan's voice, seeking relief, but all he saw was horror. Logan was covered in gore, he had been in the thick of the fighting and most of it was still on his clothes. The heavy rain made it pour from Logan's shoulders in bloody red rivulets. It was too much. Gambit bolted without an ounce of grace, nearly falling down the rain soaked stairs like a drunkard in his haste.

He burst through the downstairs door and into the hall, only to see Mayhem and Wipeout talking with Cyclops, the three men at ease, a telling sign that Scott clearly had no idea who he was really talking with. The pair of Outkasts were cordially introducing themselves to Xavier's Second as though they hadn't just assaulted his teammate moments ago. It didn't stop them from noticing Remy now.

Wipeout snickered harshly at the sight of Gambit still so trashed and the thief jerked away, unable to speak. He should be warning Cyclops, he knew it, but all Remy could feel was a sickening lead weight in his guts. He was going to heave, he knew it, but didn't want to do it on front of them.

He staggered down the hall and away, leaving a trail of bloodied rain and water, and found the nearest, smallest space - a Men's Room at the base of the stairs. He flung himself into the nearest stall from the door, vomiting what little was left inside of him through his tears.

He never heard the bathroom door open, but he soon sensed he wasn't alone. At least it wasn't an enemy, Logan had followed him from outside.

Wolverine was calm and quiet, listening in on his teammate but being patient and careful. He knew this day had been bad for his empathic friend. Kimble and Aiden had been transformed into God knows what, Angel was gone. Gambit was not experienced in full scale combat situations, he was a sneak. Today's big bloody battle had been an eyeopener for most of the folks here, the ones that survived anyway.

To pass the time while Remy regained his composure, Logan stripped off his black leather uniform jacket, it had kept most of him dry. He removed his blood soaked T-shirt and started to wash in the sink, cleaning off as much of the blood from his body as he could. It was a bit of waste of time, there was plenty of gore still on him in spite of Storm's cleansing rain. He heard Gambit stop throwing up after a moment and flush the toilet. Then all that remained was the asthmatic, raspy wheeze of the panicked thief's breathing.

Wolverine did not know the exact cause of this particular episode, but he could make an educated guess. There wasn't much difference between the carnage today and that of the Morlock Massacre. It wasn't so shocking a conclusion for Logan to make, this wasn't the first time he had heard Gambit breathe like that. The first time had been shortly after the thief's unexpected return from his exile in Antarctica. A loner like Wolverine, Remy quickly isolated himself from the primary dorming rooms of most of the X-men regulars and the two men shared separate small rooms on the same distant third floor. The first night Remy had returned, Logan had been awakened by the distress of his newly recovered teammate, a nightmare that had left the young man rasping and wheezing just like this. Making sounds he had never made once before he had been left behind in Antarctica. Logan had knocked on the door, but there was no response. Remy wasn't ready to accept the aid from anyone he felt he had betrayed.

The nightmares continued over the years along with all of Remy's attempts at repentance. Of course Wolverine poked around Remy's doings the moment the boy unpacked, the thief's secrecy almost demanded it. He soon learned that Gambit still pulled odd thieving jobs, but always taking from the rich and corrupt. The bulk of his take was donated to local orphanages and churches, something that still continued to this day, though the thief had enough of his own money invested that he no longer had to steal to provide for his donations. Those first years, the ones before Kimble came, Gambit often broke into churches late at night, laying himself flat in front of the ornate crucifixes of the stricken Christ, begging for a forgiveness that would never come because he simply could not forgive himself.

It had been these signs of remorse and personal agony that made Wolverine back Remy's plays, made him keep the others off of his back. It showed that the kid was human, not like the ones who had actually done the killing that day. Wolverine doubted that Gambit's actual kills could be measured out on one hand, but he carried the burden of all that had been taken down in the Massacre. Each and every one.

Some of that burden had been lifted when Kimble came. Not at first, not while Kimble had been gone after their return from Cerise. Gambit had been trashed then, he'd had his empathy boosted and hadn't been dealing with it well. **Shemusk,** Aiden had called it, as good a name as any. When Kimble returned and was restored, the change in the thief had been profound. The quad had been built and the pilot and thief had shared their brief time together. Not once during that time did Wolverine hear the thief dream like he had. No startled shouts followed by this hysterical, "I'm being slowly choked to death", freight train wheezing. Logan had thought he would never hear it again. Looked like he had just been proven wrong.

Wolverine moved from the sinks and gently pushed open the door to the stall Remy had chosen. He peeked in and saw the boy crumpled against the wall, his head back, his body sitting in a brown puddle of water, blood and soot. He held one hand clenched against his chest as he desperately tried to calm himself. He was better, the breaths were deeper now, not so rapid.

"You all right?" Logan growled, unhappy. Remy was white, the whitest he had ever seen him. His lips were pale, the only color the deep bruising on his cheeks from where he had been abused by Jael's troops.

The thief nodded, the slightest dip of his chin. "You... you got a smoke?"

Wolverine snorted. "You really think that's a good idea? You sound like shit."

"S'il.. s'il vous plait..."

Logan shrugged and returned to his coat, rummaging out a fresh pack of smokes. He shook one out and lit it, handing it over.

Gambit took it, but didn't otherwise move. He took a hit, coughed, but held it in. Another deep drag and he noticeably calmed. "Merci."

"Thank me when ya get cancer."

Remy coughed rough laughter. "Not for dat. For watching over me."

"Anytime, kid. You gonna be okay now?"

"Oui."

Logan nodded and withdrew. He found his radio and sent out a call to Max. Max was a powerful telekinetic, a member of his security staff, and Wolverine had every hope that the kid had survived. He was in luck, Max answered right back from just down the hall and the Lab. "Yeah, I'm still here. I'm okay."

"That's good to hear," Logan replied honestly. With the number of casualties they'd had this day, finding out that anyone was still alive was good news. Max was a personal favorite of his so he was quite pleased. "Is Molly with you by any chance?"

"Yeah, she's here in the Lab and more than a little pissed off. She said something about being knocked out."

Logan grumbled to himself in irritation, having an idea that one of the Siskans was probably responsible. "All right. Keep her there. I'll get Gambit down there in a minute."


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Cyclops watched as Remy had staggered away but hadn't been immediately concerned - at least not in a way that he was willing to show. It wasn't like the cagey thief to show his feelings like that, the man had been seriously trashed. The day had been hard on everyone and the hardest part had yet to begin – the negotiations and the cover up. The negotiations were just starting, he was just now being told by Mayhem and Wipeout here who their mysterious benefactor had been. They were telling him their boss - the infamous Butch Madison himself - wanted to meet with the Professor.

"We have to be sure the area is secure," Scott replied calmly, unsure himself exactly how to proceed. He did not want to seem ungrateful for the save and he was well trained enough to hide his unease from this pair. Something seemed wrong about them – Gambit's reaction to their presence had set off silent alarm bells in the back of his mind.

"The outside is secure," Wipeout assured, doing his best not to seem impatient. "Jael's men have been eliminated, there is no need to fear for your safety. However, it would be unwise to keep Butch Madison waiting for long."

Scott closed his eyes in frustration, happy for once that his visor could hide his irritation so well. He just didn't know how safe it was to have a bunch of Outkasts wandering the halls. He was rescued by a telepathic message from the Professor – _Have them gather in the Solarium, it will be all right._

"Charles will be happy to meet Mr. Madison in the Solarium," Cyclops told his guests, hoping the Professor wasn't making a mistake.

The entire X-men team had been told to report to the Solarium after the big fight so a proper head count could be made. Being such a large area, it was the most logical place to have a muster point. Anyone who wasn't too wounded to walk should have reported there as soon as they were able. It was probably just as well to have this meet there, perhaps the few remaining X-men there would be able to offer the Professor what protection they could.

Wipeout smiled at Scott. "I'll tell him."

"Don't bother, I'm already here," came a voice.

Scott stepped back defensively, automatically reaching for the firing switch on his visor without thinking. Before his very eyes a man misted into existence as if he were a ghost. The man was tall and African American, dressed in military gear and carrying a large rainbow colored flag over one shoulder. Butch Madison, leader of the Outkasts, extended a hand and greeted, "Well, hello there, son. Didn't mean to startle you. I know I can have that effect on people."

"Ah, yes. Hello," Scott replied awkwardly as he shook the offered hand. He had gone from merely concerned to fully alarmed now. He had no idea how long the man had been there, he had to have been more than simply cloaked. No alarms had sounded and Wolverine had passed by only moments after Remy had and hadn't even scented the man. As much as Logan had been worried about the thief, he never would have allowed a stranger to go unchecked inside the building. Who was this man who could enter a place without being detected? Would he try to steal their secrets behind their backs?

"This way, please," Scott gestured, checking his fear and moving this along.

Cyclops led the men down the hallways and one level down to where the nearest Solarium door was located. The door opened up onto a large grassy area with several large trees. Some tables had been set up in advance with refreshments and more than a few people who had made it down from above had gathered.

Scott could see that more than just X-men had come, under one of the large trees, he noticed that mysterious, creepy, yellow Marked Siskan that had appeared outside before. Skye was back in his favorite skin, but Cyclops still knew who he was. How could he not? At his feet crouched the man Scott knew as Sabretooth. He was there, licking the dried blood from his taloned hands like a large cat enjoying the last of a savored meal. Kristalay paused when he saw them come in and sat back and waited, watching the show. The pair was being watched over by Rogue and some of Logan's security staff. Just as Logan had wished before, all Scott wanted at that moment was to see them tossed into a holding cell. Unfortunately he had other business to see to first.

The Professor had arrived before Scott and his group, and Scott was grateful to see that Charles was now flanked on both sides by Fallen and Jean, two of the most powerful telekinetics on what remained of the team.

"Welcome, Mr. Madison," Charles greeted, offering his hand.

"Thank you," Butch replied, shaking the Professor's hand with a modest bow. He looked around the large park with real admiration. With the rain and smoke from above, there was a surprising amount of light filtering down from the mirrors. It was gloomy enough for the park lights to come on, however, giving the room an ethereal look. "This is quite a place you have here."

Charles smiled at the compliment but couldn't help but give Butch a look over. Like most truly powerful mutants, this man's mind was a telepathic blank, he would never be able to get a good reading off him. He did note that Butch was handicapped, one of his hands was mangled, hardly more than a stump with twisted fingers and no thumb.

"It was a birth defect," Butch answered to the unspoken question. "No one is perfect."

"Yes, of course. I thank you for your assistance today, though we had no idea you were coming."

"Oh, I was invited, just not by you."

Charles arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? May I ask by whom?"

"I possess a Siskan myself. I did this for her and at her request."

As if on cue, the Solarium door opened and Asher came limping in, assisted by a couple of Butch's men and Cheeree herself. Asher was worn out and tired, hampered by the ugly injury to his side. The centaur been dragged along the pavement outside by Zander's forceful telekinetic shove and his horse's body had a terrible scraping on one side, his skin showing damage down to his ersatz bones. While the injury might have been fatal to a real horse, he was an inorganic being and could cope with it until he could get into the sun enough to heal himself.

The moment Cheeree saw Butch, her face broke out into a wide smile and she left Asher to run to her Master's side. Unmindful that she was interrupting a meeting between two powerful factions, she embraced her Master with laughter and kisses, making the man blush beneath his dark brown skin.

"There, there, my lovely," Butch soothed, his lips brushing her own. "There is work left to be done here, give us some time. Go and stay with the Grey. He looks like he could use the company."

Cheeree obeyed, taking one last kiss, and returned to Asher's side as the centaur was led to another nearby tree where he could lay down and rest on the soft green grass. There was not enough sun to heal him at the moment, but at least he could be made more comfortable in this place of beauty than in any bed. The escort of Butch's men that had come in with them stayed at Cheeree's side, protecting her as ordered.

"She's very beautiful," Charles said to Butch, inwardly pleased. Since Butch was telling the truth about having a Siskan then perhaps his actions today were not those of a hostile take over.

"That she is. One of a kind. And I heard you possess four of them. How very lucky of you."

The Professor tried not to flinch at that. It was very telling, the only way Butch could have known that was to have spies imbedded somewhere here among his own crew. It was a disturbing thought. The truth was, Butch had won this Game, not the X-men. By those rules, he had the right to possess them all now. The second reality was that the X-men wouldn't be able to stop Butch from enforcing that rule, their numbers had been seriously diminished and their hiding place revealed. They were vulnerable and exposed.

"This is their home," Charles replied possessively, hoping Butch would take the hint.

Butch laughed with a large toothy smile. His air was one of pure arrogance, of one who had nothing to fear from anything or anyone. "I know this and I have no intention of taking them. Of course, if any should wish to come with me, they will be free to do so – unhindered."

The Professor bristled at the implied threat. "You know I have never held any one here against their will."

Butch crossed his arms. "We are both men of peace."

There was an angry derisive snort at that and Butch looked up to see a large blond winged man now standing behind the Professor. Butch had detailed files on most of the senior X-men and recognized this one immediately as Warren Worthington, the man in charge of running this facility. Warren had survived the day's fight but not unscathed. His face was bruised and one arm was heavily bandaged. Some blood had seeped through the wrappings, giving away that he had some kind of large laceration under there. He was flushed and upset, hardly able to control his anger.

"You disagree?" Butch replied, his eyes bright but not intimidated.

"You only care about your own best interests," Warren dared to challenge. "What about Korea?"

"I stopped a potential nuclear war."

Warren did not believe. "Couldn't have that ruining your property values, eh? What did you do with those nukes anyway?"

Butch gave a pained smile. While some of what Warren had said was true, it wasn't the whole story, just the version that got the media coverage. "One of my men disposed of them. They will never trouble anyone ever again."

"And we're supposed to just believe that? You are a terrorist no better than Jael!"

Scott cringed at Warren's harsh words. While Warren had voiced the opinion most of them shared, they were in no position to antagonize this man. He had wiped out Jael and could just as easily annihilate the rest of them only to walk out of here unpunished.

Butch was much too powerful a man not to be patient. "I suppose it never once occurred to you that I am a person who recognizes that with great power comes great responsibility? I saw a situation that needed to be corrected and since I had the ability, I did something about it. I did so in a way that cost not a single life, I am not the monster you think I am."

"If that was true, then why did you wait until we were almost gone before you jumped in to 'save' us today?"

Butch smiled again, busted. "Well, I am above all things, a practical man. I waited to see if you were going to sort things out yourselves without my intervention. When I saw it wasn't going to go your way, then I stepped in. This way you could still say you tried your best."

"That was your idea of doing us a favor?!" Warren snarled, outraged.

The Professor raised a hand, calling for quiet. "We are all tired and have many wounded. Mr. Madison, thank you for all your help. If you have any injured, please send them to our Lab, Dr. McCoy would be happy to assist you in any way he can."

Warren was about to protest further, but just then someone came through the Solarium door, flustered and hot. "SHIELD is here! They just landed a plane outside!"

**(break)**

Wolverine waited until Remy had had a bit of a rest and then dragged him down to the Lab. They passed more than a few gurneys on the way, loaded with the wounded and miserable that had begun to come down the stairs from above. It stunk of war down here, the smell of burnt flesh and the cries of the wounded bringing back many an unpleasant memory for Logan who had participated in one World War and many a skirmish on the side.

Once inside the Lab they found Henry on the phone, his brow wrinkled with concern. "Dr. Mayhew, this is Dr, McCoy. Yes, yes, you're very welcome for that research material you requested. I am glad it was so helpful for you. Yes...well, about that. I need a favor in return. I have a burn victim here, several in fact, and I need your help. You know this sort of thing better than I do, is there any way I can convince you to come here and help out? Yes, thank you. Yes, I can send someone to pick you up..."

Remy was quiet as Beast worked out the details, Fallen would be sent to pick up this doctor and some burn supplies. Henry hung up the phone, his eyes tired and sad. "What a mess. I had planned for war, but I hadn't considered there would be so many casualties of this nature."

"You think it's wise, invitin' strangers here?" Logan asked without accusing.

"With wounded like this, I have no choice. I won't have us lose any more of our own if I can help it. Now then, what have we here?" Beast asked, looking Gambit over with real concern, he could see the man was trashed.

"He needs to be checked out," Wolverine said, giving the thief a gentle shove towards the doctor, not letting Remy off the hook.

Gambit shook his head in protest. " 'M fine."

"I can see that," Beast replied, obviously not believing a word of it. Gambit had shuffled in here, his eyes low and his face all battered and bruised, looking for all the world as though a truck had run him over. He was wet from the rain and filthy. "Let's have a seat."

"Non. How's m' Kimble and Aiden?" Gambit countered, not the least bit happy about being here. He'd had a rest, yes, but his spirits remained at their all time low. The last thing he needed was to be poked and prodded and asked a bunch of questions he had no answer for. Was he okay? He had no idea and right now didn't much care. He had sputtered his protests all the way down here but Logan had been adamant that he be looked at.

"They're fine," Henry answered, trying his best to be truthful. While they seemed okay at the moment, he wasn't sure that either one was in the same shape they had been only just that morning.

"Can I see dem?"

"Kimble's asleep and Aiden is being scanned. Now, let's have a look at you."

"I got sumptin' for Aiden," Remy said, not budging. "I need to see 'im first."

Beast looked at Remy knowing that the thief was never a good patient on a good day, never mind a day such as this. It would be better to indulge him and then get him into a bed.

"Fine. This way."

Beast led Remy aside, noting that Logan hung back and did not follow. Now that he had gotten the thief into some care, Wolverine had other business to look after. More and more Outkasts would be heading down those stairs. Security measures of some kind had to put in place.

Beast left him to it and led Remy into the room where some scanning equipment was out and humming. Aiden lay on a gurney, a thin blanket over him and a pink bucket of ice chips on a tray nearby. The Dreamer was on his back, the blanket pulled halfway down and a light sheen of gel sweat on his skin. The scan wasn't invasive, it was simply a headdress that lay on the poor rumpled Siskan's head.

"He's a little high," Beast said, keeping his voice down. "It appears that the energy he absorbed has overloaded him a little bit. He's not really lucid."

At the sound of Henry's voice, Aiden's eyes fluttered partway open and he rolled his head towards them. There was no mistaking the fact that he was stoned, his face was flushed and his pupils large and glassy. " 'Ey..." Aiden slurred, his voice little more than whisper, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips, an added plus.

"Hey," Remy returned, feeling some relief at the sight of that smile and taking Aiden's hand. Aiden's hand was hot and damp, feverish. Gambit didn't like that Aiden was so warm, but took some comfort in that the Siskan was talking. He noted that Aiden's Mark seemed to have changed color, but in his current state of misery and exhaustion, thought maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. "How you doin'?"

"Tired..."

"I got sumptin' fo' you," Remy said, digging in a pocket. He took out Kimble's promise ring on its thin strip of blanket and placed it into Aiden's hand, curling the Siskan's fingers around it nice and tight. "Didn' want Kimble to fret it was gone."

Aiden's smile grew bigger, turning into something more real. His own ring lay nearby, only off for the scan but still in sight. "T'anksz. Keemble will be szo pleaszed..."

"Let Aiden rest," Beast insisted, moving Remy back a little. "Let's have a look at you."

Remy went reluctantly but obeyed, his feet heavy as lead. Henry had a hand on his shoulder, authoritatively steering him towards an exam table. The thief climbed up and had a seat. He was passively protesting in his way, he made no move to undress or be helpful at all.

Henry wasn't too happy with what he saw, he could smell past the blood and filth that Remy had just had a cigarette before coming here. So much for his trying to quit. "Are you in any pain?" Beast asked, doing his best to keep his voice light.

Remy was silent. Was he in any pain? Yes, but not in a way that he could hope to properly explain so he didn't bother. He sat with his head down, his eyes hidden behind his heavy bangs, water dripping down from them into his lap. He could still feel a tightness and pain in his chest and knew he wouldn't hold up under close scrutiny. He just wanted to go someplace quiet and be alone, someplace where he wouldn't be asked questions he didn't have the answers to. Someplace where he could breathe.

"Is this blood yours?" Henry asked next, using a claw to raise Remy's chin. He could see some red along Remy's cheek where a few spatters of Jason's blood still remained.

"Non," Gambit finally replied, his voice soft and scratchy. "Let me go, s'il vous plait."

"Let you go?" Henry exclaimed in indignant surprise. Gambit hadn't even undressed. "Don't be absurd. I haven't even had a chance to look at you."

Gambit snarled something ugly and tried to rise, but the doctor sat him back down with a gentle shove. "Don't even think about it. You're white as a ghost and soaked to the bone. Get undressed."

Remy didn't move. He had no will for this. All he wanted to do was run.

Henry stood for a moment, not liking what he saw, and then decided to try another tack. "When we're finished here, there's someone I'd like you to see if you have a minute."

" 'M tired."

"Two Siskans have been brought down from outside. New ones from Jael." While that might have normally brought out an interest in Remy, Henry saw Gambit's shoulders slump all the more. All he had done was burden the thief with more work. "When you're ready."

"Let me go."

Henry sighed. If Remy could argue he couldn't be that bad off. Besides, he had a lot of people more obviously wounded than this one. "Only if you promise change into something dry. Get some rest."

"Merci," Remy grumbled and heaved himself from the exam table to his feet. He swayed a little, still sick to his stomach.

Henry patted his shoulder. "Go see your wife."

Remy startled a bit at that, having forgotten that Molly might be here. He couldn't face her, not now. Not with the memories of the Massacre so fresh in his mind. He nodded in agreement just so Beast would let him go and made for the nearest exit. He almost made it, too, but just as his hand touched the door, he heard Molly bark at him from the waiting room, her way of asking him to wait up for her. He couldn't. He took one look at her and fled, slamming the door behind him.

Molly froze, perplexed and unsure of what to do. She was in a whole new realm of pissed off she had never been in before. This day had been one upsetting episode after another. There was a certain indignity to being knocked out and dumped into a closet. It had all happened so fast that she had been easily overwhelmed. When she finally woke up, she was on Kimble's bed and Ben was standing over her, Thomas close by. Both looked just as embarrassed as she felt. Ben was left with the task of stammering their excuses, but she didn't wait for the whole tale, she was a quick girl, so she was.

She left her companions and headed for the stairs in search of her husband but the ruckus outside gave her pause. It was quieting some but that didn't mean it was safe for her to go out there. Sure she might have been able to contribute to the cause, but she was also pregnant and that took priority. She was in no real condition to fight.

More than that however, was the fact that she had been left to babysit Smee. Asher's mumbler had been left to her safekeeping and it was squeaking in protest, crying out that its Master had been wounded in some way. Neither Ben nor Thomas had wanted anything to do with the small furry creature and so it was left to her to look after it. She couldn't take it up into the fight any more than she could take herself.

She headed towards the Lab, reasoning that if Asher had in fact been wounded, he would most likely be taken there. By now, Henry had moved most of the critical patients down there and Molly soon learned that the fighting was for the most part over. He had directed her to a quiet place, saying Remy had to show up here sooner or later, looking for her.

Molly had taken some comfort from the fact that Henry felt Remy was still alive. Beast had explained to her that Remy had left him after bringing the Siskans down. Gambit had returned to the fight and others were reporting seeing him by the stairwell and that he should be down shortly.

A half hour later, she heard Gambit's unmistakable whiskey and cinnamon voice coming from an exam room nearby. He didn't sound that great, but he had to be alive to make any sounds at all. Her heart racing with happiness, she bullied her way towards his voice, making her way through the throng of wounded and nurses. She was blocked from seeing him though, Logan had come between her and her quarry and spoke to her, saying Remy was roughed up but alive. He just needed some rest.

Molly went to the waiting room and waited patiently as only a woman married to a hero could. There really wasn't any less of a risk factor being married to an X-man then there was to a policeman or a fireman. For the most part Remy had been able to separate work from home, but there where those days he came home busted up and she was washed afresh in the fear that this would be the last time, that the next time he went out, he would come home in a body bag.

There was a scuffle and Molly rose, expecting Remy to find her and take her into his arms. What happened next was a complete surprise. He stumbled away from Henry and made right for the door, out and away from her. He would not be able to say that he had not seen her, there was a split second where their eyes had met and then he was gone.

It was fair to say that she was familiar with that look. It had been on his face every time he had come back from a tryst with Kimble. It was that 'guilty as sin' look, but she couldn't imagine what it was he had thought he had done. He had been pasty and pale, the worst she had ever seen him. The bruises on his face had been the only color.

Molly did her very best to follow. As far as she was concerned Remy was hers and she was going to fight for what belonged to her. Whatever he thought he might have done, they were going to face it and deal with it, the sooner the better. Remy was fast as he made his escape, but with her enhanced senses, he would not be able to elude her forever. Unfortunately, she wasn't alone.

Smee was still in her care – she hadn't felt safe just leaving him unattended in a Lab full of wounded people she hardly knew – and now the little furry creature wasn't the least bit pleased to be invited along for the chase. The moment Molly flew past the Solarium doors, Smee's cries reached a fever pitch.

"Stops!" poor little Smee shouted, his voice sharp and painful in her ears, like fingers scraped on a chalkboard. "Stops! It must stops! Master! Master! Master is there!"

Molly was forced to stop, or at least slow down. Smee was wiggling furiously and his little ferret's body was hard to hold. He took advantage of that and slipped from her arms easily, squirting out like a greased piglet. He scampered in his long bodied fashion back the way they had come until he came back to the Solarium door. Of course he was much too tiny to open it so he scrabbled against it with his tiny little clawed hands. "Master!" he continued to squeak and wail. "Sharpsy hurts he is! Poor Smee! Poor poor Smee! Master! Master!"

Molly stood as she was, panting in her frustration. She was torn between two duties – one to Smee and another to her husband. She felt a sharp stab of anger that caused her to release a slow thin growl from her tightly clenched lips. Of course she would serve Smee first, how could she not? The Solarium door was right there after all. But what galled her most was that once again a Siskan took priority. It was like they ruled their lives, her and Remy, and it seemed like it would never end.

Smee stilled at her noise and blinked back at her in what passed for cautious surprise. He hadn't expected her anger. "Just the door..." he begged, his tone a bit less demanding. "Finds him I will ... on my own."

Molly relented. She stomped back the way she had come and slammed open the door to the Solarium with a fist, venting some of her anger. Smee didn't hesitate but darted through the opening she had made without ever looking back.

**(break)**

It wasn't long after Remy left him that Aiden woke from a short nap. Now that his scans were done, Henry had moved Aiden from the scanning room to a more quiet location, out and away from the bustling noise of incoming casualties. Aiden felt different, not himself exactly. The stress was gone, that was the first thing he noticed. He felt a great peace and weightlessness. He understood what was happening to some degree – he was overloaded on Angel's special energy and it was putting him on a euphoric high. He could still feel her love wrapped all around him in its golden glow and part of him hoped it would never leave. He also no longer felt the burden of fulfilling his mission, that was over with now and he could go on simply living and making Kimble happy for the rest of his life. It was something he was very much looking forward to.

Feeling so good was not a usual thing for him and he called out to Father and Talalanay. They had always comforted him when he was out of sorts like this, but oddly neither one answered his call. There was only a strange empty silence, as though something had been taken from him.

Fortunately, Aiden wasn't left alone for long, there was a soft shuffling whisper of feet and Aiden looked up see Kimble now standing over him. Kimble had left his own bed to seek him out and now stood there, his eyes red rimmed and lost. He looked tapped out and drunk, not all together there. He had been dressed in a johnny that was now half hanging off of him, making him seem that much more rumpled and neglected.

"Keemble?" Aiden questioned, upset to see his lover so distressed.

"Kin...kin I lays down with you?"

Aiden was a bit perplexed at the question, why would his lover even need to ask? He looked up into Kimble's face and saw only confusion and fear there. Kimble had his arms wrapped around his shoulders and was shaking quite badly, he was obviously still in some kind of shock. Aiden gave Kimble his best smile and moved the blankets. "Of coursze."

Kimble scrambled quickly, almost diving into the space Aiden had created. Aiden embraced him happily, pulling Kimble's ice cold body up against his own. Aiden was feeling better, but was still feverish. At least now it was serving him well, Kimble shivered and trembled, but grumbled with real happiness at the warmth. Aiden smiled and took off Kimble's johnny, all the better to warm him. It had tangled around the pilot as he had scrambled into the bed and was all but useless. There that was better. Now he could feel Kimble's soft skin and warm fur pressed against him, hear the whisper of his breath.

In his current state of intoxication, Aiden couldn't help but shiver himself with pleasure at every tremble Kimble made against him. Kimble's naked body against his own was exquisite enough and hard to resist when Aiden was sober, it was all the more alluring now that Aiden was high as a kite. Aiden was becoming fully aroused but his will was strong. He could put that aside for now, he had other matters on his mind now that Kimble was so close.

Kimble was distressed, but not exactly in the way Aiden had expected he might be. Angel was gone, her magic absorbed into his own body. Would Kimble resent that? Maybe hold him responsible for her death? Aiden took a moment as Kimble gradually calmed before daring to ask, "Do you remember what happened to usz?"

Kimble rubbed his nose against Aiden's neck. "You gots my Angel inside 'a you," he answered softly. He shuddered once and Aiden felt warm tears on his skin.

Aiden gripped Kimble tightly, pulling him as close as possible. "All of 'er love isz zere. I feel it inszide me. Let me show you."

Kimble gasped in surprise as Aiden released sparkling Morrowhiem, this time no longer red, but a rich golden yellow. Angel's yellow. Kimble sobbed with happiness as it clouded around him and he could sense her presence almost as if she were there for him to hold. Kimble pressed harder against him, crying a little harder now.

"Shh..." Aiden soothed, brushing his hands through Kimble's long hair. "Everyt'ing isz okay now. Zere isz no reaszon for you to fear, day-yee."

Kimble startled a little at the nickname and looked up into Aiden's eyes, seeking something. It had been a while, but he would never forget the name Angel had used to call him. She had been a precocious child and learned to speak early, but had at first mispronounced "daddy" as "day-yee "and it had sorta stuck for a while as a nickname. She only called him that now in the dark when they were private and alone – and when she wanted him to feel the most loved. As far as Kimble knew Aiden would have had no knowledge of this and it made him a little disoriented and uneasy.

Aiden was high, but sensed his confusion. "What?"

"When did ya hears that name?"

Aiden had no answer, it had just sort of slipped out of his mouth on its own. "Aiden doesz not know. Perhapsz 'e 'ear Anjel szay it."

Kimble knew better, but didn't have the will to argue about it now. He was warm and safe in Aiden's arms, questions with strange answers could wait until later. One thing Kimble knew about himself was that he didn't grieve well. With each new loss, there was less and less of him to go around. He was scared, but not enough to leave his protector. Aiden was right, there was nothing to fear here, not from him. If there was, Kimble would have sensed it. All he felt there now was love. "Loves me!"

Aiden closed his eyes on his own tears of joy. "Asz if Aiden could ever sztop, me."

"I lost my ring," Kimble whimpered, trying uselessly to wipe his face on the pillow.

"Remy found it. 'E give it to me," Aiden explained quickly, taking the ring Remy had given him and slipping it up and around Kimble's neck back where it belonged. His own ring was right around his neck where it would remain until they were married, however long that took.

"I'm sorry," Kimble mumbled, feeling responsible.

Aiden laughed softly. "Zere is not'ing to forgive. Zandair losze it, not you. It 'asz been returned."

"The full moon is tomorrow."

"Zen tomorrow we will marry, if you sztill wish it."

"Of course I do!" Kimble cried, pushing himself harder against his lover as if he could crawl inside Aiden's very skin. "Don' leaves me, too! I couldn't bears it! I cain't be all alone!"

Aiden received the abuse in stride. "Zen I never will."

Kimble trembled and shook against him, but was calming down quickly. He wanted a kiss and Aiden easily complied with his unspoken demand. Their lips met in a playful dance that said more than mere words ever could. Vibrations of love and joy passed between them that only cemented their bond that much stronger. Kimble was in heaven, Aiden's heat and love was enveloping him like a thousand warm and fuzzy blankets. He could also sense Aiden's arousal, brought on by the energy overload and his own intense happiness.

Kimble wouldn't have minded a quick tumble right then and there, but they were in a semi-public place and he was simply still too trashed and exhausted. He relaxed, saving his passion for later, and was soon asleep once more, cradled in the safety of Aiden's benevolent embrace.

Aiden couldn't be happier. Not only did he have Kimble's forgiveness, the pilot had never even blamed him at all for the loss of his Angel child. He knew Kimble would grieve, but he knew he would be there to help Kimble through it. That was what responsibility was, just as Asher had told him. He wouldn't run from it. He would take care of Kimble and everything would be fine. Aiden smiled at the thought of having Kimble free and clear, no pesky Game standing in the way anymore. The rest of the world could have torn itself apart at that moment and Aiden wouldn't have cared. All he had ever wanted was warm and now safely in his arms.

**(break)**

Nick Fury stepped out of his Lear jet, his face hard and tight with anger. They hadn't been that far out from the Industrial Park when the smoke and clouds just about shouted out that something very wrong had happened there. The only thing that was surprising was that so far it looked as though neither the police or firefighters had been alerted to any trouble here, they were either blind or somehow this was being shielded from their view. Eager to control the scene for himself, Fury radioed out to the local SHIELD office and demanded troops be sent out here immediately for back up. They then flew around, looking for the best place to land and ended up coming down on the road leading to the Xavier Complex.

Fury disembarked, grumbling about the heavy rain that was still pouring down, and looked up when he saw a figure coming out of the smoke to greet him - Wolverine. It confirmed Fury's guess that this had been an X-related event but it also told him he was expected. Logan was most often used as liaison between them because he and Fury shared some history. They could talk to one another, peer to peer. While they didn't exactly trust one another completely, the respect was always there.

Logan was quite happy to greet Fury outside, actually. While SHIELD was often a hindrance rather than a help, in this case he was hoping that a SHIELD presence here would scare some if not all of the Outkasts away. He wouldn't be able to relax until they were gone. They were walking all over his territory and he was for the most part powerless to remove them on his own. He had changed his clothes and cleaned up as best he could, no sense in greeting the head of SHIELD covered in blood.

"Fury," Logan greeted, holding out his hand.

"Logan," Fury returned, looking over the damage. From where he stood all he could see was smoke though that was dissipating, it looked as though there had been some kind of large fire but the smell told him otherwise. Like Logan, he had seen too many battles to be deceived into thinking this had been anything else. He was concerned though, the rain was still coming down hard, soon whatever evidence there might be to gather would be gone.

"You gonna tell me what went on here today?"

Logan smiled, showing his teeth. "Christmas came early. Jael's dead."

"Right. I'm gonna need some proof."

"This way," Logan said, gesturing towards the main building. Though it would normally be off limits to have outsiders in the lower levels, Charles had already directed that Fury was to be brought down to the Solarium. Again, it was where most of the people had been gathered and also where Logan knew Skye stood triumphantly with his prize.

As they walked, Fury was giving orders to Jeffries who followed him. Fury wanted his men spread out, securing the entire building and the grounds. Jeffries then relayed those orders by radio to those above. Fury didn't care that this was rude, he wanted Logan to see he was now in charge.

Logan took it all in stride. While it rankled him to have the government trampling all over the place, it was still better than the Outkasts. The X-men had little to fear - even so diminished, they could take SHIELD and none of them were wanted, not like many of the Outkasts. Fury was free to arrest as many of them as he liked as far as Logan was concerned.

They went below and Wolverine was quietly impressed as Fury kept his silence. The normal building had been impressive enough, but the lower levels were large and sprawling, the envy of any head of a large government agency. They entered the Solarium and it was here that Fury made his first noise. He grunted in admiration of the vast chamber full of grass and trees. He still said nothing, his eyes moving away from the beauty of this underground garden to where all the survivors had gathered.

The X-men were mostly in their own clump, many of them bandaged and battered, covered in soot and ash. There was a table set up and someone was taking names, counting those that had survived. The group was watching Fury curiously, many of them recognized his uniform if not his face. As the Professor well knew, it wasn't his X-men that concerned Fury much, it was the other group of rabble rousers that stood easily by. Fury knew many of them just on sight, most notably Mayhem and Wipeout, not to mention Butch Madison himself.

If Logan thought Butch would run at the sight of the head of SHIELD, he was sadly mistaken. Butch was still in the Solarium where he had been meeting the Professor. Butch turned to greet Fury casually, as though the man wasn't even close to being a threat to him. "Nicholas Fury, head of SHIELD, I presume?"

While Fury knew something had gone on here, this wasn't even close to what he had imagined. First Logan told him Jael was dead - yeah, right, like he was even going to take anyone's word on that - and now Butch Madison, terrorist threat number two stood before him without an ounce of fear. What kind of strange alliance had Charles conjured this time? While he knew Charles wanted Jael gone, he hadn't thought the man would be this stupid or desperate. Well, one thing was for sure, he was going to get to the bottom of this if he was going to have to detain them all. Fury extended his hand, beginning this. "Mr. Madison. What brings you here?"

"There was a need," Butch replied, taking the offered hand.

"You realize that I should be arresting you right now?"

"If you try you'll be dead before you even took your first step," Butch replied with complete honesty, his eyes bright with all the arrogance of the invincible.

Butch had every reason to be unafraid. He had anticipated and prepared for SHIELD long before he had sent his men to lure Jael here. Outside and on the tarmac, Fury's men had been observed and surrounded by his own the moment they stepped outside the Complex. If SHIELD was so stupid as to try and arrest anyone, there would be a second war played out on the ashes of the first. One SHIELD had no hope of winning.

"Yeah right," Fury snorted in derisive anger. He couldn't believe the gall of this man. Who would dare threaten the head of SHIELD?

Butch just smiled. "You are going to let me go."

" Yeah? Say's who?

Butch raised a hand and began to count. "One, I gave you Jael, a terrorist you wanted more than me, and two, you have no choice. That is, if you want your men to walk out of here alive."

"I don't believe you."

"Do you really want to test me?" Butch challenged, his eyes merry but all the teasing gone from his voice. He wasn't fooling around and had meant every word he had said.

Charles sighed in exasperation. He looked to Butch and said, "Mr. Madison, while we appreciate your help, we didn't ask for it and now I think it's time for you to leave. There is no need for any further hostilities here today."

"You're right, you didn't ask for it," Butch answered, at least making it known in front of Nick Fury that Xavier hadn't been in collusion with him. "But I gave it anyway. Someone has to stick up for those who can't and so far you're the only one who has been doing it the way it should be done," he finished, clearly making a dig at Fury. SHIELD had long held a reputation for coming in all guns blazing and asking questions later.

"You could consider laying down your arms and joining us," Charles dared to offer, it would be nice not to have to worry about the Outkasts in the future.

Butch just shook his head. "Sorry, but I will respectfully decline. You're a better man than I will ever be. The job of peacemaker is yours not mine. But I will look out for you, from time to time."

Fury turned his head away and scowled, debating his options. He could call his bluff and try to arrest Butch or simply let him go as he had asked. He had Butch's face on file, but he had no clue what the man's mutant abilities truly were. While he had thought the man was like a ghost in his ability to get in and out of places, he didn't know that that was truer than he had guessed. Instead of acknowledging the fact that Butch made him uncertain, he asked his next question, "Logan said you had proof Jael is dead. Where is it?"

Wolverine stepped back and whistled loudly, catching the attention of most of the people in the room. Skye's head snapped up and he grinned as Logan waved him over. The Siskan had been fairly quiet while under guard here by this tall shady tree. He had felt no threat from the crowd, Kristalay was large and protective at his feet, getting up to follow as Skye walked over to Wolverine. Skye shifted skins again as he walked, arching his back with his shoulders back and straight, proudly displaying his yellow Mark once more like it was a badge of honor. He walked right up to Fury and thrust Jael's severed head at the man. "This whatcha comes to see?"

Fury snorted in disgust at Skye's little trophy and took a wary step back. He couldn't keep up with all that was being thrown at him. He knew this man was more than just a shape shifter - he was a Siskan. Fury had been informed about them years ago when Kimble had gotten into some trouble. Fury was a smart man, he wouldn't be where he was if he wasn't. He knew this yellow tattoo was the same as Kimble's and that it meant something. And was that Sabretooth there as well? Good Lord, he didn't even know if that was a tale he wanted to hear. Last he knew Sabretooth had been stolen from him while on his way to execution. Fury hadn't heard from him since. Now he was standing there tall and proud as if a day hadn't even gone by. For Pete's sake, what a complete cluster fuck this was turning out to be.

However, the one thing he did not recognize in any way was the bloodied head. Truth was, he and Jael had never met face to face, no one at SHIELD knew what Jael had actually looked like. That could have been anyone's head so far as he knew.

"Who are you?" Fury challenged, looking the Siskan square in the eyes.

"M name's Skye," Skye answered, not backing down an inch. No, his predatory eyes gleamed all the more, looking Fury over like he was something good to eat. There was childish sass in his voice as returned without respect, "What's yers?"

Fury was uncomfortable with the way Skye was looking at him. He was used to the lack of respect from criminals, however, and declined to answer, asking instead, "Is that all the proof you have? A severed head?"

"Oh this's Jael all right," Skye sneered, the skin change not hiding his true wicked self. "He wuz terrible proud, thinkin' he wuz gonner be the Master of us. Too bad he didn't stops ta think that when a dog gits beat enough times, sooner or later the dog bites back. I wuzn't gonner lets him takes me or mine without no fight. I done this, I won the Game and I gots Jael's head ta proves it!"

Fury blinked, unable to come back with a quick reply. The fact was he had no clue what this lunatic was raving about. He knew nothing about the Game. What he could see was that Skye was clearly mad. It was in the crazed gleam of his eyes and the deranged, twisted grin that wrecked his beautiful face.

"You didn't do anything alone," Butch sternly corrected Skye. He wasn't any more afraid of Skye than he was of Fury. Butch had done most of the damage to Jael's army and he wanted his due. "You may have taken his head, but it was my army that destroyed his. Technically**_ I_** won the Game."

Skye's face darkened and he snarled, "Then yer head comes next! No one's the Master of me!"

Kristalay reacted immediately to his Master's anger, spreading his hands and showing his claws. Some of the lesser X-men standing around stepped back in fear, Kristalay had once been Sabretooth and even though he no longer used the name, was still just as impressive and deadly.

"Don't you hurt my Master!" came a loud cry from the crowd.

Fury watched in amazement as a bright shimmering blonde sprang out of the surrounding group of onlookers and threw herself in front of Butch, shielding him with her tiny body. If he had thought this day couldn't get any more bizarre, he had just been corrected.

Cheeree stood her ground, trembling with fear at the sight of Kristalay, but not enough to back down.

"Easy girl," Butch soothed, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and whispering in her ear, a gesture of possession. He hadn't moved once during Skye's display of anger, Butch knew that neither the Siskan nor Sabretooth could ever really hurt him. Between Butch's own mutation and his nearby cadre of men, he was perfectly safe. "No one will hurt either of us."

Skye backed off at the sight of Cheeree, a perplexed look on his face. She was dressed but that meant nothing, he could see in her shine that she was his sister. In his visions, he hadn't seen her existence, but here she was and there was no mistaking the fact that Butch was her Master or that it pleased her greatly. Skye looked at Butch, beginning to understand. "You come here on her orders?"

"That's right. It was never about the Game, it was about keeping Cheeree safe. You know that Jael destroyed most of the Siskans he had? It wasn't going to happen to her. Or to you, if I could help it," Butch offered, trying to let Skye know that he wasn't and never would be the enemy here.

That strange sadness returned to Skye's eyes and he retreated all the more, bringing Kristalay back to heel with a simple gesture of his hand as if he were a dog instead of a man. "You won't be the Master of me," he reiterated all the same, driving home his point.

"I am the Master of Cheeree only. There will never be another. But if you want a home, I'll take just as good care of you as I do of her."

Wolverine cringed inwardly. Yeah, it would be nice to see Skye gone, but he wanted justice for Jennah. He wanted Skye in a cell, not given a chance to run free again. Who knew what the twisted, ruined Siskan was capable of back out in the world?

Lucky for him, Skye wasn't interested. "I'll takes my chances on m' own with m' lions. Thanks, anyhow."

"Fair enough," Butch replied, politely retreating.

"What's going on here?" Fury demanded. He was lost. Masters and lions?

"All you need to know is that's Jael's head right there," Logan verified, hoping Fury would accept his word. "We met under less than pleasant circumstances. You know I never forget a scent."

Fury hesitated. He wanted Jael gone, he really did, but he wished now there was a way to verify what he was seeing was true. Truth was, they didn't even have any old DNA to cross reference.

The head of SHIELD grumbled a bit, "Let's just say for one moment that that really is Jael's head. What happened today? I want details!"

Logan cleared his throat and began giving him the blow by blows of the day's events. There were certain things he left out – the big Command ships for one. He didn't want Fury to even think about digging through the remains and claiming old Dognan technology for himself - or even look twice at the Dragon 2 building site for that matter. He also left out many of the Siskans' participation in things, he didn't want any of them taken into custody either, if Fury were to deem them too hazardous to be left free.

Fury was nodding as Logan spoke, doing his best to process it all. Meanwhile he was studying all of their faces. He could see Butch openly looking Skye up and down with something like admiration in his eyes. Butch had been just as startled by Skye's shifting of skins as he was, but for some reason, it had made Butch happy to see it. He couldn't know of course that it was because Cheeree had worried she would be the last of her kind. Skye's survival cheered his lover and so it had cheered him as well.

Charles was sitting there, nodding politely as Logan spoke, offering nothing himself. He knew Fury wasn't getting the whole truth but that was just fine with him. The sooner Fury was gone the better.

Fury waited patiently until Logan was finished. Really, he was just killing time until he could get his men situated. He had decided that once he was sure they were in position, he would seal this place off and take Butch if he could get the chance. "That's quite a tale."

"Yeah, well that's what happened."

Fury regarded Butch. "And what are your plans now?"

Butch smiled. "My plans are to leave a small contingent of my men here to watch over my wounded while they are cared for. If you are thinking you can take me or my men, you'd be sadly mistaken. I wiped out Jael's army in less than a half hour. Imagine what I could do to you." He had an idea that Fury was planning to call his bluff, only it hadn't been a bluff at all. Fury's men would die if they pulled anything.

"Easy gentlemen," Charles said. "I think it's best we call a truce at this time. There have been many casualties on all sides, there's no need for any more. Unlikely allies we may be, but a great good was done today. Jael was removed and I think it's best we all take some time and relax and try to recover what we can."

"Yes," Butch agreed. "I think it's time I took my leave and did just that. Before I go I want to make it abundantly clear that any Siskan who wishes, is free to come with me." Butch had raised his voice as he spoke the last. He knew Skye wasn't the only Siskan in this room, though Asher was no longer directly in his sight. "You can leave word with any of my men and they will escort you to where I am located. Until then, I bid you all farewell."

Fury grumbled in complaint, but before he could even finish his sentence, Butch was gone, vanishing into thin air and taking Cheeree with him.

"Did he teleport?" Fury asked in confusion. This he hadn't counted on and wasn't prepared for. Butch could be anywhere now.

"No, I don't think so," Charles answered. "My best guess is that he's actually a very powerful telekinetic. He broke his body and hers apart at the molecular level, making it seem as though he vanished. Ghosting as it were. You won't catch him, it's impossible."

"Well, that doesn't mean I won't arrest who I can. This room is filled with wanted men including yourself."

"Do it and you die," Mayhem threatened, all too willing to go for a second round of fighting. He had been left behind with clear orders that no Outkasts were to be harmed or arrested and he would see it done.

"Easy, gentlemen," Charles interrupted once more. "There will be no arrests and no more killing. Fury, you will just have to catch these men another day. I doubt you are prepared to lose all of your men today."

"Besides, you should be happy," Wipeout sneered. "Jael is gone and there's a lot less of us pesky mutants to bother you."

Fury snorted in disgust. "I'm worried more about Jael's replacement than any of you freaks." He clicked his radio and said, "Morrison? Are you all in place?"

There was a cackle of static and then nothing.

"Morrison!" Fury shouted again. He was being made to look a fool and he knew it.

"Morrison's gone nappy time," came an unfamiliar voice in answer from the radio. "Your men are surrounded and they'll all be dead if you don't vacate the premises in five minutes. Five minutes startin' right now." It was faint, but the sound of a man choking and grunting with pain could be heard as well. Morrison wasn't having a good day.

Fury's face flushed and he had to choke down some serious profanity. He had come with a full cadre of men and more were on the way and yet he was being shut down with pathetic ease. This was beyond embarrassing.

"Mr. Fury," Charles said, keeping his voice level and calm in the face of the man's anger. "Your men are indeed surrounded. There is no need for any more bloodshed. I beg you, please take your men and go."

"Please," Wipeout seconded with a sneer, his grin all evil intent.

"I want that head," Fury demanded. He would at least leave with his so called proof. He would have his doctors examine it for all the good it would do them.

"It's yers," Skye said and handed over his grisly prize without a fuss.

Fury stepped aside and stomped out, leaving Jefferies to collect the gory bloody trophy and then they were gone.

Xavier was happy to see them leave. He had a very full plate at the moment, he had casualties to look after, a head count to make and a clean up to oversee. Butch Madison's wounded needed to be looked after and temporary housing given. The sooner they were gone, the better.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

Remy ran quickly through the halls of the Complex, using all of his wits to take a path that would leave Molly further and further behind. He knew she could track him by his scent, what he was hoping for was that she would see he didn't want to be found and just let him go. He had no idea of course, that Smee had unintentionally aided his escape. Molly was nowhere in sight. Once he knew he was free and clear, Remy stumbled into a supply closet to catch his breath. He was still having a hard time breathing and moving so quickly was causing that tightness in his chest to grow that much worse. He wasn't sure what to do next now that he had outrun Molly. He wasn't sure what to do next at all. His plan for escape hadn't been a very well thought out one.

One thing had become clear to him as he had fled, he could no longer stay here. How could he? He had failed in all of his responsibilities, something Mayhem and Wipeout had pointed out in their indirect way. He couldn't stay here. He couldn't look Molly in the eyes, not with the knowledge of what he had done. He couldn't have his kids growing up with a murderer as their father. At the thought of the twins, Gambit shuddered and felt a surge of ugly emotion that was sadly becoming all too familiar. He used to feel this way so many times, he had come close to suicide on many occasions when the drink and the drugs just weren't quite enough to erase this terrible guilt and self loathing.

Being with the X-men had gone a long way to killing that pain. He would work off his debt, that was what he had tried to say. Having Kimble and then Molly come into his life had seemed like a reward for that way of thinking. Just Butch's simple mentioning that he had Morlocks on his team, that they could be in this building even now, had shown just what a foolish hope that had been. Seeing Mayhem and Wipeout again only made that worse. He couldn't face any of them again, he had to leave now, before this got any worse.

The decision made, he wiped at his face and straightened, combing a hand through the tangle of his hair. He was filthy, wet, and he stank of blood and death. How appropriate. He gathered some inner fortitude and opened up the door, stepping into the hallway, his feet pointed towards the nearest exit that would lead him topside and out and away.

He hadn't gone ten steps before a voice called out to him, "Jeez, LeBeau! Where have you been? Mr. Logan's been looking all over for you!"

Gambit walked away faster, but not fast enough. This was no enemy, it was Logan's little second in command, Max. Remy was halted as one of Max's heavy bodybuilder hands clamped down on his shoulder. "Where are you going? Didn't you hear me?"

Remy stopped, defeated. He wouldn't look up, but replied, "What you want, Max?"

"Didn't Henry tell you? We've got some new Siskans downstairs in holding. We have no clue what to do with them. One of them's a freak. He just howls and fights. Who's going to talk to him if not you? Logan sent me to find you."

Remy sighed and breathed a less than friendly prayer, _Dis you, God? Toyin' wit' me? Shovin' Siskans in my way to de door? Knowin' my weaknesses. You won't win. Not dis time_. Remy shrugged off Max's hand. "Some other time, Wings. I gotta go."

Max wasn't about to back down so easily. He feared Logan far more than this uncooperative thief. "Hey! What's your problem? I know this day was hard, but it was hard on everyone. You gotta buck up, boy. You're the senior team. You gotta show the young ones how to be strong."

_How very typical_, Remy couldn't help but think. When it came to the Siskans, Max had been uneasy in their company and Remy's techniques in managing them had often left Max uncomfortable. Now because Max – or Logan really, since Max was really just the messenger - needed him to do something, now he was an important member of the senior team and not simply mutant trailer trash. Gambit snorted in anger and pulled away. "Appealin' to my vanity ain't gonna work, Max. I gotta go."

"Go where?" Max asked in exasperation. He kept pawing at Remy, not letting him escape. "Didn't you hear me? We have two Siskans. I think they might even be Rogues."

Gambit stopped pulling away, sighing once more. _D'accorde, God, you petite connard. Not just any Siskans fo' me, hein? Non, you tempt me wit **Rogues**. But you won't win all de way. Gambit will see dey settled, den 'e gonna go. And dis time, you won't be able to stop me._ He turned and looked at Max for the first time. "All right, all right. Quit you shovin'. Gambit's comin'."

Max's face broke out into a huge smile of relief. "This way."

Remy allowed himself to be towed along, down to Logan's Security offices and the holding cells there. He prepared for the examination as best he could, being sure to get a hold of a fresh pack of cigarettes and a couple of Cokes along the way. He had learned his lessons from Asher and wouldn't forget the basics.

They didn't go directly to the holding cells, Max lead him instead to one of the interrogation rooms nearby, one that had a large one way window so that whoever was inside couldn't see outside. Max fell back, leaving him to do his work. Annoyed at the idea of a Siskan being detained like that, Gambit didn't even notice him. He walked over to the large window and looked inside.

There was a Siskan in there all right, Remy could feel her uncertainty, fear and anger. Her vibrations were intense, meaning one thing - she was one of the Kintay du Lushna-esk, as Aiden called them. One of the more powerful empathic Siskans Courtesans Quishnalay had made. It was amazing indeed that she had been captured, Jael must truly have been wounded to let this one slip. Strange that it was a woman in front of him and not a man, he had been told that the Rogues preferred to be male. Perhaps this choice of skin was merely a defensive reaction, a female was less likely to be seen as a threat.

"Dere's only one in dere," Remy said to Max. "You said dere was two."

"The other one's in holding. He's too violent to be free. No one has even been able to talk to him at all. All we know about him is that he's big and black and really pissed off."

Remy nodded, saving that problem for later. One Siskan at a time.

"Why she in dere?"

"Logan insisted. She was with Henry at first but then she was in the way with all the casualties and really, we had no way of knowing if she was going to be safe to have loose or not. He thought it best if she was put here where it was quiet until you could talk with her."

Remy grumbled to himself in irritation, it was so typical of Logan to think the worst of a Siskan. He knocked on the door and opened it but didn't step fully inside. He cleared his throat until the Siskan turned and looked at him.

This one was small, slender like himself, and very beautiful as all Siskans were to him. Her hair was long and white, pale as her skin, making her look a lot like a female Seth if he were in a human skin instead of that of a pilot. Her eyes were a translucent orange and filled with emotion. She was dressed comfortably in the loose fitting scrubs from the Lab, but he could still see part of her Mark, it was a brilliant orange, a color Gambit hadn't seen before. It only added to his list of unanswered questions.

"**_Good morrow,"_** Remy greeted in Siskan, trying set this one at ease. Such a risky business, trying to communicate with an unknown and potentially hostile 'gram.

"**_Good morrow,"_** Star returned, her shine still cloudy with fear. It would take more than a greeting in her native tongue to calm this one. She was looking him over, assessing him just as he was assessing her. She had reason to be afraid. He was a mess physically - he was dirty and wet and smelled burnt. But more than that, never had she seen a shine so disturbed in a human before. Star had seen it in a Siskan however - she had watched as one of Shebas's had shattered as it wallowed through a bad **Shemusk **that had been ignored for too long. It had looked like this right before it had destroyed itself by setting itself on fire, something Star had no desire to ever see again. She was wondering if perhaps this human had been sent to her for repair, but then no one here yet knew of her ability to heal others. The young man behind him seemed oblivious to this one's state. She would have to be cautious.

Remy saw her fear, noticed that it had spiked some as she had looked him over. He knew his own shine must be a disaster, he could only hope that she would not be afraid of him because of it. His voice was gentle and kind as he asked, **_"What's yo' name,_** chere?"

The Siskan cocked her head, uncertain about this human who spoke to her with such tenderness. This she had not expected, certainly not from one whose shine was so dark and cloudy with grief and pain. Most humans in that state were violent or abusive with her, seeking her aid whether she was willing to give it or not. But then she realized that he was not here for healing, he was going out of his way to hide his condition from her, not wanting to trouble her with it. He might yet be safe to speak to. **_"Star,"_** she replied, her voice as calm as his had been.

"_**Star? Dat's a nice name fo' one as pretty as you. Can I come in an' speak wit you?" **_

Star nodded, encouraged by his polite question, amazed that he respected her enough to even ask her permission. She stepped back as Remy entered the room, still keeping some space between them just in case he might flip out or anything. She knew Gambit was not alone, he had left the door open and she could see the winged young man out there, the one she knew to be a powerful telekinetic. She would not be allowed to harm her visitor or try and take him hostage as a means to escape back outside if that had been her wish. As Remy came closer to her, Star was next shocked by the power of his vibrations. In his terrible state, he was not in control of them as he should have been. Of course, he shouldn't have been having them at all. Was this Kundatesh? Impossible.

Gambit took a seat at Star's tiny table and tossed out the pack of smokes, taking one for himself. He was calmer now with something to do instead of stewing in his own self doubt, but he was still far from fine. He was somewhat surprised she didn't comment on his own condition, but then they had only just met. He was quiet, waiting patiently until Star sat down opposite him. She sat, but didn't accept his offering, the cigarettes sat untouched. "You speak de English?" Remy asked, moving the conversation forward.

"Yeah," Star replied, tossing her head arrogantly, her eyes still defiant with fear. She didn't want him to think she was a coward, she could take care of herself.

Remy saw it but let it pass, he would let her keep her pride. "You Star or Numiah-lay, de Siskan?"

"Don' much matter nones ta me," the Siskan replied, her voice so much like Kimble's Remy couldn't help but smile. Looked like he got the confirmation he was looking for. Four Siskans, all Rogues, all talking with the same accent. Kimble, Skye, Asher and now this one.

"Look, fille. Gambit's yo' friend, he ain't yo' enemy. He's 'ere to 'elp you, make you comfortable, bien?"

"Star's okay, I guess," she replied, backing down just slightly. She had seen the lightening of his shine as she spoke, she could see she had reminded him of someone he loved. The improvement in his shine made her less afraid of him and she relaxed.

"Star," Remy acknowledged, still doing his best to charm her and put her at ease. "Good morrow, Star. My name is Remy, though m' friends call me Gambit, too. I'm an alpha but I was once a Master of a Siskan like you. Got four of dem under my care now, you got nuthin' to fear from me. I'm 'ere to see dat you comfortable. You want anyt'ing? A drink?"

"All right," Star said, calming down even further though she was still wary. She had not expected to be treated so graciously. As a piece in the Game, she was now worthless. Her Angel had been found and made part of the machine. Since that day, her original Master had treated her like dirt. Her situation hadn't improved when Jael defeated her owner and took over all of his Siskans. The only thing that had kept her alive was that she was a member of the elite and her Kundatesh was so powerful and intoxicating to Jael.

Gambit placed the Cokes he had brought on the table, but smiled again when Star reached for the smokes first. The Siskan looked for matches and glanced up at Remy when she couldn't find any. The thief chuckled softly and made a spark with his fingers. He lit her cigarette and then his own, sitting back and making himself comfortable. It had been a test. He wanted to see what this Siskan's powers were. She couldn't make sparks as Kimble did.

**_/ She's relaxing, _**Shi'ow-ri whispered. **_Take it easy and she will trust you. /_**

_Oui, chere. Gambit's gettin' used to dis._

Star regarded him with her pale orange eyes, having sensed that inner conversation on some level. "You gots the Kundatesh. Ain't never seen no human like that, but I heard talk of one back at Jael's. The other Siskans said there wuz one special like that, one that wuz gonna comes and rescue all 'a us. I suppose that's you, huh?"

Gambit couldn't help but grin with a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. He had never been close to saving a one of them, but the honorable mention was flattering. "Dat's right - well, de Kundatesh part anyhow. Got touched by a Siskan like you. 'E love me so much he give dis gift to me."

"The Rogue. The purple, right?"

"Oui. Dat's my Kimble."

"Kimble? Yeah, I 'members her. One of Quishnalay's special orders like me."

Gambit was intrigued, especially by her reference to Kimble in the female. It backed up what Aiden had written in his diary and enhanced Star's credibility. "You know 'im from when he was made?"

"Shure. M' Maker wuz usin' me ta helps with the ones that he wuz settin' aside. Her an' Skye, they gots special codes just like me. Funny how yous ended up with both of them. Guess ya never knows how it's gonna be around here."

Remy just smiled, not bothering to correct her. Skye wasn't his even though he had had a part in today's events. "Why don' you tell me how you come to be wit Jael?"

Star's eyes dropped with remembered pain. "He killed my Mistress, tooks me fer his."

"Dis before or after you find yo' Angel?"

"After," Star replied softly.

**_/ She's in pain. She lost her angel and now she feels he has no value. Her Masters have done nothing to change her mind,_** Shi'ow-ri whispered.

Remy opened Star's soda can and set it in front of her. Star looked at it with curiosity, she had never been given this particular treat before. She watched as her host opened his own can and sipped it before she dared to sample the one in front of her. She smiled happily from the unexpected pleasure of this drink - like all Siskans, anything sweet was a real treat. Just like Kimble would do, she tipped the can back and gulped it down recklessly, choking slightly from the fizz of it. She set down the now empty container and belched loudly, laughing now.

"You Siskans all a bunch of silly little kids," Remy commented, laughing a little in spite of his own pain. Her playful demeanor was more than noticeable now that she had relaxed. It was contagious, he was feeling a little better himself just to see it. Of course, he had often wondered if it was even possible for him to spend even a few moments with a Siskan, any Siskan, without falling in love with them. "You want another one?"

Star was pleased she had made him laugh. It was in her nature to make others happy and considering how terrible his shine looked, anything that made it better made her happy as well. She could see this man was really very kind, only just deeply disturbed by something that had happened today. If she could repair his shine without having to resort to her magic, it would be a sort of thanks for his own kindness. "Kin I? I means, is it okay?"

"Absolument. You can 'ave all de Coke you want."

Star continued to chuckle even as she saw Remy gesture through the open door to Max who was listening outside. She saw Max leave, no doubt to get her another one of those wonderful drinks in the bright red can. It was also a sign of Remy's authority. Like the big blue doctor that had captivated her so, this one gave orders that others followed. It raised him up on the status bar and made her that much more curious about him. Would he be her next Master? If so, his shine would be the first thing she worked on that was for sure, he was still a mess in spite of having been cheered a little.

Remy, oblivious to Star's thoughts, continued his assessment of her. He took out a small pad of paper and a small pencil and began taking notes to be passed on to Henry. He wasn't staying here, not even after seeing Star. He would see to her care and then leave. "Gambit needs to ask you some questions, just to make sure you settle in okay. Dat all right?"

"Shure."

"You use the cubes to power up or you gotta 'ave some sun?"

"I kin use either one."

"What you prefer, chere?"

Again Star was puzzled by Remy's consideration. Why would he care? "Sun's better, I guess."

"Bien. You gotta eat?"

"Naw. Just fer fun."

"If you want sumptin', you let me know den. Kimble like a croissant in de mornin' when he out in de sun. Says de food makes 'im happy."

"What's a croissant?"

Remy smiled. "Tasty bread."

"All right."

"You need blankets, clothes?"

"Yeah. Cain't makes them no more."

Remy paused a minute before asking, "You been melted?"

Star shivered, this she hadn't expected him to ask. None of her other Masters had ever asked her this. None of them had even noticed or cared that a Siskan, any Siskan, might be so damaged. " 'Course. Ain't we all been?"

"You still split?"

Star hesitated. If he knew she was damaged, she might lose favor in his eyes. She had already grown to like him, she didn't want that to change.

"Si bien. It's okay, Star. Nobody's gonna 'urt you 'ere. You ain't de firs' split Siskan Gambit deal wit. I don't know what Jael done to you guys, but we keep all de Siskans happy 'ere, even de broken ones. You'll have a home 'ere, a warm and safe place to stay fo' de rest of yo' life. All we want to do is 'elp you and make you comfortable."

Star nodded, lowering her eyes. She wanted so much to believe his words, but the idea of a Master caring that much was hard for her to accept.

"How many you got, chere?"

"There's me, Kinta and Luma."

"Dey gonna give us trouble?"

"Luma...she gits violent sometimes...when we's scared."

"You scared now?" Remy asked, boldly reaching out to touch. He lay his hand over her own and sent out a strong vibration of comfort, **_/ Gambit won't hurt you. 'E love you like 'e love all Siskans. You know I can't lie, dis power we share won't let me. /_**

"Not so much no more," Star replied, her shine sparkly bright now with relief. This human was her friend and he would never harm her, she was too powerful for him to deceive her. She was flooded with joy and a sense of freedom. Things were definitely looking up, perhaps her troubles were finally over.

Gambit was glad to see it in her shine. "Bien. You got no reason. You see dat box on de wall? It an intercom. I might not be around, but dere's others 'ere gonna 'elp you," Remy offered, still meaning to disappear as soon as he could slip away unnoticed. "Enry? 'E dat big blue fellow who brung you in. 'E a doctor. Dis 'is number, five-six-t'ree-seven. It get 'is house, it get 'is phone. You get scared or you just wanna talk, you find one of dem boxes and you press dem numbers. You'll get 'im. Don' matter what time, day or night."

Star shivered and the inevitable tear dribbled out. "Why you bein' so nice ta me?"

" 'Cause I'm Gambit an' Gambit's always nice. Why would I wan' to 'urt you, chere?"

"Cuz I ain't gots no Angel no more. It's in the machine."

"Look. You a Siskan an dey always got value to me. You alive an' real, all of you."

Star began to shake as more tears spilled down her cheeks. She dropped down to her knees and crawled over to Remy, placing her head in his lap and reaching out with her hands. She was giving up, letting go of all of her fears and surrendering to him, to this strange man with familiar powers. "Don't leave us! Be our Master, please!"

Remy stroked her long white hair back, nodding slightly at Max as he returned with another drink. Max walked back out, leaving Gambit to his work and Remy tracked him with his eyes. He knew Star was clever enough to see he was going to leave here for good, he could only hope that Max out there was not so fast as to realize what she had really meant.

"I can't be yo' Master, Star. Got a Mistress of m' own. What I can do is take care of you, protect you. See dat you cared for. Dere's other Siskans 'ere, you won't be alone."

Star sniffed and gripped him tightly. Her future was uncertain, but his love for her was not. That she could feel and be comforted by. She was tempted to try and heal him in the hopes that he might stay, but wasn't sure how he would take it. His sickness ran deep, such a powerful healing might cause him to use her badly like Jael had. She decided to let it go for now and simply enjoy his good feelings for her. "I'm scared."

"Je sais, petite. I know. Just you gotta keep yo' 'ead. Dere's no reason fo' you to fight or hurt anyone 'ere. Dose t'ings will only get you a permanent stay in a holding cell 'ere. You want to be free to roam around? It will 'appen, but only if you can show us you can be calm."

"I don' wanna hurts nobody."

"Bien. How about de others in dere, hien?"

"You don't hurts us, we wont hurts you," a gravely female voice leaked out. Her defensive anger was real and threatening danger.

"Luma?" Remy asked, increasing the play of his hands to better calm her.

"Yeah. You hears me good?"

"Oui, Gambit hears just fine. Nobody's gonna 'urt you 'ere. How 'bout Kinta?"

"We's stay in the small spaces. Don' needs ta go out." A tiny child, of course. They all had one, their innocence always reduced to small, frightened splinters. This one was also a girl, surprising Remy again that all of Star's selves seemed to be female.

Remy reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny piece of chocolate. "You can stay small if you like, chere. It make no difference to me. All Gambit wants is you to be 'appy. P'etetre, when you see dere nuthin' fo' you to fear, you'll come out and be wit de rest of us. 'Til den, you take all de time you need."

Kinta took the chocolate and ate it, sending out a vibration of love and need. Remy continued to pet her gently, being as reassuring as possible.

"Do you know anyt'ing about de other Siskan dat come in wit you? De black one?"

Star answered, "He come in when Jael beat Tranan. He wuz real scared all the time, worse than me. All he ever did wuz fight and yell, no one could gits close to him. He attacked Jael once, near tore his eye right out. Don't really know why Jael kept him, maybe Jael thought he might have some value later on. Not like the others he killed."

Remy nodded at that, her words of the Siskan genocide enacted by her Master deepening his already growing melancholy. He hadn't expected the reminder.

Star noted his worsening mood, but also his attempt to keep it from her. He wasn't trying to deceive her about anything he had said previously, not lying as others she had seen, it was simply a matter of him keeping his troubles to himself. He was deeply disturbed by the day's events, but who wouldn't be? It wasn't the first shine she had seen today that was trashed. She would try to heal him, she decided, later when she would have a chance to explain the process. He deserved no less for his kindness.

As if on cue to Remy's question, there was a startled shout and another round of yelling as Simone howled garbled curses and slammed into his bars once more. He was only a short distance away, just down the hall and quite loud. Star jerked and trembled at his noise, her shine betraying an old fear. "Don't hurts him, please!"

"Easy, now," Gambit soothed, stroking her hair. "Nobody's gonna be touchin' yo' brother, we just feelin' him out is all. 'M gonna be seein' 'im next if dat makes you feel better. We gonna take good care of him, just like we gonna do wit you, chere."

She relaxed when she felt the sincerity in his voice. "It's loud and scary in here."

"We can take you someplace a bit more quiet if you want. 'Enry's got some holding cells up in de Lab. You'll be safe dere and it won't be so loud."

He held her for a few more minutes and then rose, giving his notes and instructions to Max. Max nodded and took Star with him, taking her back to the Lab and much quieter quarters. Remy then took a deep breath and headed down to his next challenge, this mysterious black Siskan. Once that was done he could run and never look back.

**(break)**

Once Fury had departed, Wolverine faced his own next challenge - Skye and Kristalay. There was no way he was going to just let them wander around the place, looking for the next person to munch on. Logan was Head of Security here for good reason, he could make snap decisions and act on them quickly. Fury had only just left and they were all still gathered in the Solarium - Skye with his lion; Fallen, Jean and the Professor; Mayhem and Wipeout remained close by.

Logan got right to it, he turned to Skye and asked casually, "You serious about stayin?"

"Why not? This seems like a nice enough place," Skye answered, looking over the grounds. He was fully confident that now that he was known to have played such a large role in the Game, he would be treated with some respect.

The poor fool. Logan had already sent some rapid requests to the two telepaths standing right there –

_Jean, you got Sabretooth, have Fallen cover Skye. I want them isolated and shielded for capture, understand? I'm positive Skye's the one who killed Jennah, I want his ass in a cage._

_Chuck, when it all goes down, don't make a move. Skye's dangerous._

Jean gave the slightest of nods and Logan grinned at Skye, gesturing for the nearby door to the Complex. "Fine. Come with me and I'll get you a room where you and Kris can get cleaned up."

Kristalay wasn't that stupid, he had an idea something was up. Why would Logan be so accommodating? It wasn't like him at all. "Master," he said cautiously, but was hushed by an impatient grunt from Skye and a raised hand demanding silence. Skye was basking in Wolverine's attention, happy to be treated so graciously, and wanted nothing to interrupt that.

Kristalay had a choice to make – let this happen or fight it - and found it was surprisingly easy to decide. He simply obeyed his Master's command and cast his lot for freedom.

It happened very quickly. Fallen and Jean fell in line behind Kristalay and Skye as they made for the door and before the men had taken three steps, surrounded them with telekinetic shields, enclosing them in boxes of solid air.

Kristalay snarled and growled, flexing his claws against the confinement he so badly hated, but didn't fight it, didn't thrash or struggle. His eyes were on Logan, though, waiting to see what his half brother had in mind.

Skye wasn't nearly so patient. He screamed in outraged indignation, cursed, and then simply vanished, winking out in a flash.

Mayhem and Wipeout had been left behind by Butch to keep an eye on their wounded and they were still near enough to witness the capture. They were immediately on the alert and defensive, not wanting this to happen to them. They came forward to Skye and Kristalay's rescue, but Logan held up a hand in warning.

"Stand down, boys, you don't know the whole story here!"

"Then tell it, old man!" Mayhem snarled, still sporting for a fight.

"They're wanted for murder. They've been picking us off one at a time outside in the desert. This has nothing to do with you."

"You promised us safe passage and I expect that to be honored," Wipeout challenged, not happy, but not quite ready to brawl over it either. It was true he didn't know Skye at all or even had a clue what the guy had been up to before today.

"You will have it," Charles assured, not wanting this to escalate. "These two however, do not fall under that protection and need to be contained for the safety of us all, Outkast and X-man alike. You of all people should realize that Sabretooth should not be walking about freely."

Wipeout nodded and retreated a step. Of course what hadn't been said was that they were just as dangerous as Sabretooth ever had been, but well, no one was going to go there just at that moment. Not while tensions were still so high. "Butch will have to be notified."

"Fine. You do that," Logan grumbled, happy they were backing off for now. He would deal with Butch later if the man decided to come and interfere.

Wolverine wanted a swift change of subject and while Mayhem and Wipeout were willing to let this go for now, he was right back to business and asked Jean, "Did Skye teleport outta there?" He had cursed his forgetfulness, aggravated that he had forgotten that Skye had simply appeared out of nowhere on the field of battle. He hadn't thought about just how Skye had gotten there.

"I can't tell," Jean answered. "I can't sense the Siskans, their minds are closed to me."

"Well, it'll be easy enough to find out," Charles offered. "Just shrink the bubble slowly. If he's still in there, he'll soon be a bit uncomfortable."

Jean was careful, slowly shrinking the walls of her box until there was a cry of protest from within. Skye then winked back into view, crammed and cornered. He hadn't teleported, only cloaked his body in the hopes they would think he had gone. He was back in his red haired male skin, his face livid with rage. "Yous gots no right!" he snarled.

"Yer wanted for the murder of at least three people on our grounds and the kidnapping of a prisoner. I have every right," Wolverine replied to that, happy that this had gone so painlessly so far. It didn't look like Skye was going to be able to break out and that was just fine with him.

"Fuck you!" Skye snarled and tried to move. It was a lost cause. Jean had relaxed the walls enough to allow him to breathe, but he wasn't able to wiggle around. It was in this rather humiliating position that the two prisoners were next "lifted" telekinetically and taken down to the new Security area that had been built. This was not the same place where Gambit was having his conversation with Star, this was a more restricted area, a real prison, and had holding cells with stronger barriers and restraints.

While the capture went smoothly, the transportation of the prisoners did not. It was on the way that they were joined by the third member of Skye's little party. Famayalin had been camped out all this time nearby the Lab and the security station where Star and Simone had been taken, but he soon tired of that and went to seek out his Master. He had overheard talk of everyone gathering in the Solarium and so had made his way there. While he could have cared less to see Kristalay in a box, his feelings about his Master being so confined were another matter entirely.

Logan had his hands full as Famayalin charged him, fully enraged. Wolverine could not expect Fallen or Jean to assist him, they couldn't risk joining the fight and having their prisoners escape and really, Wolverine had no reason to think he couldn't take this little punk down on his own. They met in a tangle of limbs and claws, the noise loud and ugly in the cramped hallway. Logan had scrapped with Famayalin in Wildchild's former life, but it had been some time. It wasn't like fighting Creed who was bulky and heavy. Famayalin was savage and lean, quick on his feet. He raked his jagged claws across Logan's eyes without mercy, howling unintelligible curses through his spit, and then, quick as a wink, was on Logan's back, clawing his ribs down to the bone.

Wolverine tossed him off, smashing him into a wall. He moved fast, grabbing poor Famayalin's throat with one hand to pin him and then plunging a fist full of metal claws into his belly. Logan ripped up with a powerful thrust, tearing open Famayalin's guts in a spray of blood and gore. He did not care that he had cut the boy so deeply – he had seen this tiny lion in action out on the field and knew it was going to take a lot for him to go down, especially when Famayalin had so much to lose.

Logan had been quick to assess the situation - Kristalay had easily taken the first steps to freedom from Skye just as Logan had expected, but Famayalin here had never hesitated to come to Skye's defense. This lion was firmly under his Master's control and wasn't going to give up so easily.

Famayalin howled in agony as he was so rudely eviscerated, but the cuts sealed quickly, freeing him to return to battle. He came right back for Logan's eyes just as he had before, never thinking about his own safety. It was a flaw that Logan was quick to exploit. He managed to whip the boy out and around, snaking one arm around Famayalin's neck in a stranglehold. A second later, there was a loud crack of dislodged bone and Famayalin's body shuddered and went limp, an ugly asthmatic wheeze leaving his lips. Logan had an idea it wasn't going to be that simple and went a few steps further, disjointing not only his neck, but several vertebrae of the young man's spine as well, now that he had the advantage of a defenseless victim. It was enough to make Jean shudder in revulsion and Fallen cough and gag, they were not used to the savagery Logan had used.

"That won't keep him fer long," Kristalay growled from inside his telekinetic box. He was being helpful in his own way, but couldn't help the sparkling gleam in his eyes. He had enjoyed watching the kid go down so easily.

"It'll do fer now, we're almost there," Logan returned. He grabbed a fistful of Famayalin's unruly mop of hair and dragged the boy behind him like a slaughtered deer, just wanting to get this over with. Famayalin twitched and strangled gurgles came from his choked throat, but he wasn't recovering, not quickly, the damage had been too great. At least he wasn't dead.

The Security station was only one more door down and once there Logan wasted no time opening three cells - one for each. While these men had previously acted as a team, he now wanted them separated, if only to keep from seeing Skye work his hold over his half brother. Not that there was any love lost between them, but it was just too gross to watch.

He tossed Famayalin into a cell like so much meat and sealed the lock. This cell had no bars, but had a solid barrier of plastic hard enough that Logan didn't think the little freak could claw his way out, no matter how well he healed.

Famayalin twitched and flopped around like an epileptic and reset his neck bones just as he had when Kristalay had done the same damage. He took in a deep gasp of air and then coughed, vomiting up a thick syrupy mess of half clotted blood and tissue from his stomach, residue from having his guts sliced open before. He whimpered with real pain and curled up into a ball, still wheezing blood from his lips. He hurt everywhere, but never as much as he hurt in his heart. Once more he had failed his Master. Tears streamed from his eyes and he whimpered out his misery to the floor.

It was more than Fallen could handle. She shoved Kristalay into a cell and turned to a nearby wastebasket and threw up herself, not caring how unladylike it was. She could handle many things, but blood and guts was a weak point. She made her excuses and fled, slamming the door behind her. Logan let her go with no argument, she had done her duty quite well and without complaint. He would be sure to thank her later when things finally calmed down, if ever.

"Yer pups sure got weak stomachs around here," Kristalay sneered, feeling quite jolly. He had really enjoyed watching Famayalin get his and wasn't upset about being confined. At least, not yet.

"Shut yer yap and get comfortable, yer gonna be there a while," Wolverine replied, wiping blood from his face. He was a mess for the second time today – he had only just cleaned up before Fury came and now he was ripped up and bloody all over again. It hurt where Famayalin had cut him, but it was fading fast.

"You gots no right to keeps me here!" Skye howled, throwing his two cents worth in now that he was loose in his own private containment cell. Logan didn't even bother to reply, he simply flipped the sound off from Skye's cell. The Siskan could holler all he wanted, Logan didn't need to hear it.

He was peeling off the remains of his leather jacket when Molly came in, all red and flustered. **_Remy? Is he here?_**

"I thought he was with you."

Molly paused as her nose wrinkled with the smell of blood. In her haste she hadn't realized that her uncle had had a busy day. **_Dare I ask what happened to you?_**

"Just getting some prisoners squared away, but that's neither here nor there. Gambit was supposed to be with you."

_**He took one look at me and ran away from me, I have no idea why.**_

Logan nodded, having an idea or two why that might have happened but wasn't quite ready to share any of them with Molly. He wasn't sure just how much she knew about Remy's past and wasn't going to bring it up. He nodded at Jean who was still standing by. "Jean, why don't you see if you can give Molly a hand, try and find the Cajun before he gets himself into any more trouble."

"Sure," she replied and held her hand out to Molly. "Let's go."

**(break)**

Remy, one level down and away from all that fuss, wasn't in trouble, not just yet, he had merely moved on to his next challenge. He had been warned that Star's companion, the dark, winged fellow, was extremely violent and her warning had proven true. His bonds had hardly been removed before he had flung himself at the bars with a fury only absolute terror could bring. He was quiet now, however, his hysteria temporarily abated.

Seth stood silently outside the cage, his brow furled in deep thought. Remy knew that look - Seth was trying to figure something out. A puzzle with no obvious answer. Well, Remy was soon to learn that that description fit Simone rather well.

Seth looked up at him as he approached and they took a moment, each one looking at the other and not liking what they saw, but both too exhausted to say much about it. Seth was new to the shines, but he knew enough to know that Gambit was deeply disturbed. At the same time, Remy could see that while Seth had been spared much of the action, this day's events still had had their impact. Seth was tired.

"You okay?" Seth managed first, some of his tension leaving him as it was replaced by concern for his friend.

"Non, not really, non. But I'll get over it," Gambit replied, a hint of a smile making his false humor sound a little more real.

Seth was silent, taking in Remy's lie along with the rest of the shit that had been flung at him this day. He was still trying not to react to the shocking disarray in Remy's shine - the colors were so fascinating! - his friend was deeply troubled but trying to hide it. Never had Seth seen Remy so filthy, the man was as fastidious as he himself was. Gambit still stank of war and terrible pain. Seth had an idea this pain wasn't Kimble or Aiden related, there was something to that deep pitch of unsettling grey that spoke of an older, deeper pain. Seth didn't comment on it, he was too new to the empathy to know how to properly bring up something so awkward. He just hoped Remy understood that when the thief was ready to talk, he would be there to listen.

"Our friend still alive?" Remy teased with an affected casualness, coming to stand next to Seth where he could see more easily into the holding cell. He was eager to change the subject.

Seth didn't fight him on it. "For the moment anyway," he replied, gesturing inside.

Remy turned to look. The Siskan was down on the floor, his head and upper body braced against the bunk, his eyes glassy from exhaustion. He was staring off at nothing, his body taking deep breaths and rippling the bright white Mark down his torso.

This new Siskan was quite a sight. His entire body was a rich ebony black except for his Mark and a band of white across his eyes like a bandit in reverse. He was finely built as were all Siskans, his apparent nudity somehow enhanced by the large drape of his black feathered wings. The plumage was iridescent, peacock and shimmery, splashes of red and blue blended in when he moved. His shine was startling bright, the most brilliant of any Siskan Remy had ever seen. It hinted at a great power, one that had yet to show itself. His shoulder length hair was just as black and lay in a disheveled, matted tangle about his head. His hands were cut and trembling from the pain, a creature in shock. His fingernails were jagged stumps slowly leaking drops of gel blood to the floor. More gel seeped from his split lips and one eye was puffy and almost sealed shut. If not for his ebony skin, Remy figured this guy would be one big obvious bruise. The damage had to be there all the same, this Siskan looked tapped out and ready to drop. His journey here had not been easy and there was still so much to be learned.

He was a Rogue no doubt and unlike any Siskan Remy had ever seen.

"What's dat on 'is neck?" Remy asked, nodding at the prisoner.

"It's a collar. It seems to be leather, but it looks too fresh to be anything other than part of his skin. I think I saw a name in it - Simone."

Gambit nodded. "Ash tell me about one of de Rogues wit dat same name. Ash didn't give much detail, only dat 'e was runty and small. Scared all de time."

"Well, he may not be small anymore, but he's certainly still scared. He's violent because he's frightened, judging by his shine," Seth dared to offer, his face showing not arrogance at his new ability, only a desire to please Remy by showing he was unafraid of it.

Gambit smiled at that, pleased to see Seth exploring his new talent. To confirm Seth's guess, Remy squinted into the cell, trying for a closer look at their new guest. He could see the thick leather of the collar and the glint of what appeared to be a brass plate. Seth had been correct, this Siskan was named. It wasn't a good sign that Simone was tagged like that, though, it might mean he couldn't talk. He certainly had made no move to do anything but growl and bark since he had been brought here.

"Bonjour, cher," Remy greeted, coming closer.

Simone's eyes flickered, registering the movement, but didn't turn his way, the Siskan was simply too tired. He did vocalize, letting slip a low, exhausted growl.

"Paisible maintanent, fils." Seeing no recognition of his spoken words, Remy tried familiar Siskan. **_"Easy, now. Everyt'ing gonna be okay,_** d'accorde?"

Simone raised his head like it was filled with bricks, a tired, desperate motion. The growl deepened, became more threatening.

Remy said nothing more, but reached out with his power instead. / **_Easy dere, fella. We all friends 'ere. Nuthin's gonna hurt you no more. /_**

Simone shrieked loudly, a broken jagged sound from a throat as raw and bleeding as the rest of him, his body recoiling from Gambit's empathic message as if it hurt him in some way. He thrashed and found his feet in a haphazard, drunken scramble, gathering himself to attack once more. Remy stepped back reflexively, holding his arms up defensively as the Siskan found something more inside, enough energy to slam himself recklessly against the bars with a bone crunching thud. Remy's actions were automatic, he had been in too many situations where the extraordinary was the norm, he had fully anticipated the Siskan would burst through the barrier in a blaze of Lushna-esk glory, squashing this poor X-man flat.

It didn't happen.

Simone hit the bars with what had to be painful, brutal force, but the metal bars held him easily enough. Frustrated and crazed beyond reason, Simone beat his wings against the barrier as well as his fists, making a great wind and noise. Angry broken plumage filled the air, ebony feathers tossed about that drifted out into the hallway, but again the bars held. This furious creature was a Kintay du Lushna-esk 'gram without a doubt, but he seemed to be relatively powerless. He sent no spikes, only soft, fluffy and quite harmless feathers. No bolts of energy, no deliberate psychic attacks, just a great big nothing. All brute force with no telekinesis behind it. He was scary and noisy, nothing more.

It didn't mean his display didn't have any effect at all. Remy stood fast in a shower of dusty feathers, for a moment strong, then forced to buckle as a tsunami sized wave of the Siskan's fear and rage came at him and swallowed him down. It wasn't a deliberate attack as he had seen before, it was an unconscious release by the poor hysterical creature in front of him. Maybe at any other time, Gambit could have withstood this because it wasn't aimed at him specifically, but in his already fragile mental state, it was simply more than his tattered shields could bear. He shrieked in mental agony as he was blasted far more throughly than any weapon, his head breaking apart.

"Watch out!" Seth cried out in fear, grabbing at the falling thief and awkwardly dragging him away as best he could. He was hurting from the blast himself, but since he had been spared the worst of the day's events, he was stronger against such a force than his poor beleaguered friend. Seth didn't know much, but it wouldn't take a well trained shine reader to note Remy's collapse.

Simone was oblivious to their retreat, he wasn't calming and was now once more injuring himself with reckless abandon in an attempt to assail those he perceived as the enemy. Grey gel foam was pouring from his nose and mouth in a rabid froth, bright against his dark black skin, and was now splattering from his wings with the loose feathers, a sign of damage.

Seth took Remy a few feet down the hallway, out of Simone's sight and the direct line of fire. He lay Remy down and stood over him protectively, but need not have worried, Simone wasn't going anywhere. His fury wasn't enough for the Adamantium bars of his cell, he remained in place, still a prisoner. Seth gathered his resolve as best he could, he wasn't the bravest of creatures, but he stood fast and made himself pay close attention, watching as the small storm of black feathers began to sparkle and shimmer away. They were part of Simone's 'skin' and the same as if he was bleeding or purging. Made of gel, all things separate from his body would fizzle out like the illusion they were. Seth did note they were flickering orange before crumbling, an answer to a question he had been wondering.

On the floor, Remy was in a heap, groaning and gripping his face. He was sick, struggling to keep a hold on his stomach and not even close to being able to stand. "What's goan' on? Why we over 'ere?" he mumbled, not quite sure how he had gotten so far down the hall. He was in a fog.

Seth brushed his fingers over Remy's head, a perfect imitation of the many times Remy had done this for him and gave as best a report as he could. "I don't know how, but he hurt you. It wasn't an attack, I don't think. It's just that... that you don't look so good, you know?"

Remy grunted and pulled away at that, not wanting to be reminded of his own pathetic weakness. " 'M fine."

"You should have Henry take a look at you," Seth suggested, unsure of what to do.

"I said I was fine so just drop it, eh?" Remy snapped sharply.

"I'm sorry," Seth apologized automatically, his eyes down.

"S'okay, fils. I'm jus' a little tired is all."

Seth nodded and backed off, sorry that he had made Remy angry.

Gambit settled down, swallowing deeply as the tried to gather himself. He sat up, leaning a shoulder against the wall and trying to get it back together. He couldn't fall apart here, not in front of Kimble's sensitive younger brother. He wanted nothing that would delay his escape any more than it had been already. He perked up a bit more when he heard Simone let go with a shivery gasp of terrified exhaustion and crumple to the floor of his cell, spent. The tip of one wing trickled out of the bars, rumpled and broken, fragile.

Remy was unsure of what to do next. He had never seen a Siskan so totally out of control. Well, not since that DVD of Aiden's rampage against Trishnar, but even then, the Dreamer had eventually calmed and seen reason. That didn't look like it was going to happen here. "We gotta find Ash, get dis boy calmed down."

"That would be good, if anyone could find him. The only reason I'm still here babysitting Simone is because no one knows where Asher went. Nightcrawler went to go look for him but I haven't heard from him since he left. At least I got enough from Simone to help us out in the meantime."

"What's dat?" Remy asked, rising to his feet and dusting off a little, trying to compose himself. He was shaking some, but able to stand. Lord, he was tired.

"The way his feathers were shimmering away. They turned orange and sparkled a little bit the way Kimble and my gel turns pink before it disappears. Simone must take the plasma. At least we know what he eats now."

Max was coming, grumbling about the noise. He had brought Star to the Lab as Remy had asked him to, and had only just now returned. "What's going on?"

"Simone's still being a little wild," Seth explained, trying to block the hallway from Max's view. He didn't want Max to pass by them and get Simone wound up all over again. Seth had a feeling that such a display would only make Max condemn Simone as useless and crazy as quickly as he had condemned Kimble. "Let him rest a bit."

Max grumbled, unhappy that this hadn't gone as well as Remy's talk with Star. "How do you know his name? Did he talk to you?"

"No, but he has a tag on his neck. That collar we saw."

Max nodded, already taking mental notes. He would have to report all this back to Logan later. "You get anything else from him?"

"He takes the plasma," Seth explained. "We could tell by the way his feathers were breaking down. Maybe if we can get someone to fix him up a little, he'll calm down."

"We can't let him out, not if he's going to be like that."

"P'etetre we get Neal or somebody to come down 'ere instead, d'accorde?" Remy suggested. " Give 'im small doses."

Max nodded in agreement, happy to have a plan, and relaxed. "You look like crap, man. You should go back and see Henry."

Remy shook his head, aggravated all over again. He didn't need the constant reminder. "M' fine. You guys all set 'ere? I'm gonna go clean up."

"Get some rest," Seth soothed, patting him on the shoulder.

Gambit did his best not to flinch away from the touch. He didn't want or need anyone's concern, but didn't want to make a scene. He merely nodded and walked out, heading not for his apartment, but back towards topside and the doorway out. He hadn't changed his mind. His duty done here, he was leaving and this time nothing was going to stand in his way.

**(break)**

Smee scampered through the well groomed grass of the Solarium, doing his best not to be noticed. There were a lot of people in here, milling around and trying to give comfort to one another. He was small and low to the ground and kept near the trees and shrubbery, avoiding all those tall people as best he could. He didn't want to get stepped on.

Smee was no ordinary Mumbler just as Angel had been no ordinary child. Like her, he had been aware that there were ways the Game could be halted, including the sacrifice of an Angel to a Receiver to accomplish it. Smee had assumed it would be a sacrifice he was to make, especially when he saw Aiden. Receivers were hard to come by and he had no way of knowing if there were any more around. Fortunately for him, it looked like Angel had beaten him to it. No, Smee hadn't witnessed the fight and events that had happened above, but he had sensed them all the same just as he knew his Master was here in this room and hurting.

Smee paused under a bush and sniffed out his surroundings. He couldn't see his Master just yet but smelled his distress, he was getting closer. Never in the time that he had known his wonderful Master had he ever sensed such dismay and pain. His Master was breaking.

Smee wasted no more time and squirted out from under the bush, running at his fastest trot towards the back of the great big room. The Solarium had been carved out of the deep bedrock under the desert and the outer walls had been left bare, showing the rock face. A crowd had gathered near the rear wall and Smee knew his Master was there. Tables had been set up and now lists were being made, charting those who had survived and who had not. Meanwhile, a wounded but hardy survivor was using her mutant ability to carve the names of the lost onto a smoothed out area on the wall. The living were already memorializing the dead. Flowers and small candles had been placed near the wall as well, a shrine was being created.

Off to one side and out of the way of the crowd, Asher stood trembling, his head down and his arms wrapped around his shoulders as he shivered. He had first been laid down in the grass when he was brought down from above, but once Cheeree had been freed from his care the gathering crowd of mourners had drawn him like a moth to the flame. With each new name being added to the wall, Asher's trembling grew worse.

"Master!" Smee called out and he broke out into a full run, dodging the feet of those he passed. He finally made it to his precious Master, but when he squeaked and chirped to make himself known, Asher did not listen or make a move to pick him up as always. Something was terribly wrong.

Asher had been seriously wounded on the outside, but it was nothing compared to the injury to his heart. Outside on the tarmac he had faced Jael head on in an attempt to stop this war. He had faced Jael and failed. All those names were his fault.

Smee was a wreck. "Master! Master!" he called to no avail. Asher wasn't listening, he was in too much pain. Smee turned then to the nearby crowd. "Helps! Helpses us, please!"

That worked. A young girl more wolf than human turned to him and then to Asher. When she saw the ugly tear on the centaur's side, she called out to another, "Get a doctor!"

Smee stood there, happy now as the humans there came to assist. Asher had gone unnoticed before because he hadn't asked for help or made any noise with his injury. Now that they were aware he had been injured, there was quite a stir. Someone brought a blanket and still another tried to get Asher a drink, but he wanted none of it. He shrank from their mercy and caring but was kept from going far. He was now outnumbered.

Henry was too busy to come but Maylee was soon there, her medical bag in hand. Once she saw that her patient was a Siskan, that changed everything. For one thing it killed the urgency, she knew that most Siskan injuries looked a lot worse than they were because the Siskans were not flesh. Still, it was clear Asher was suffering.

"Asher, you should come back to the infirmary with me," Maylee insisted. "You need to rest."

Asher was being very stubborn in his grief. He refused to speak to her and finally just knelt down, his legs bent under him with the blanket pulled over his shoulders like a shroud. Like his donkey counterparts, he could be unmovable when he refused and he was telekinetic enough that he couldn't be forced back to his feet if he didn't allow it.

Maylee was at her wits end with her uncooperative patient. She had been under the impression that of all the Siskans, this one could be counted upon to be reasonable. That wasn't proving so at the moment. He was clearly in pain, he wouldn't let the blanket touch the ugly wound on his side.

Maylee was relieved when Nightcrawler came rushing over and joined her. Kurt had been looking for the centaur and felt a little sheepish that he hadn't thought to look among the wounded. He should have known that Asher, with his priestly inclinations, would have been among those who would most need his help. What he hadn't expected was to see Asher so trashed and refusing all help himself.

"Asher, please, let's go to ze hospital. You need care," Nightcrawler pleaded, but even he was unable to get the Siskan to move. "Let us pray, then, together," he suggested, taking Asher's hands in his own. If he could get Asher to pray, he might feel better enough to be looked at.

For the first time, Asher responded. He nodded and began to whisper, "Have mercy on me, O God, accordin'to yer unfailin' love..."

"Asher..." Kurt said, trying to comfort the poor stricken Siskan. He recognized the words of Psalm 51, a psalm that had been written by a man begging for the forgiveness of his many tragic sins. This is not what Kurt would have expected, the Siskan was praying as if all of this was his fault.

Asher continued, his voice breaking further with every word, "...accordin' to yer great compassion, blots out my transgressions, wash away alla m' iniquity an' cleanse me fer my sins... For I knows m' transgressions an' m' sins are always before me..." Asher couldn't finish. He broke down into deep heartfelt sobs and fell against Nightcrawler, not so much for comfort, but because he simply couldn't hold himself up anymore.

Kurt held him close, feeling more than a little helpless in the face of Asher's inconsolable grief. He looked at Maylee, "Find Remy. Ve need his help."

Maylee nodded and left in a rush, happy to have a task that she could actually accomplish. She would find the thief and hopefully he would fix this. Asher had always been gentle and kind, it was heartbreaking to see him fall apart like this. There was something about watching so pure and innocent a heart break that made all of this that much worse. No one knew the Siskans like Gambit did, she would find him and she wouldn't have to see Asher cry ever again, not like that.

Smee watched her go, his little black eyes gleaming with what passed for his own tears. He couldn't really cry, but he could certainly grieve. He snuggled up against his precious Master as best he could and waited, hoping that wherever Maylee was going, she would bring rescue. His Master was gravely wounded, damaged in ways that couldn't be easily fixed. What Asher needed was a healing for not just his injuries, but for his poor broken soul. He needed a miracle.


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Henry was busy as he dealt with all of the wounded in his little hospital Lab and was feeling more than a little ragged. He was a good doctor, efficient, and for the moment, he wasn't allowing himself to fully reflect on the day's events. He knew that if he did, it would simply take too much out of him. Like all well trained X-men, he had compartmentalized his pain, but one room inside the mansion of his mind was howling, echoing with cries of grief. He knew this day had been bad, that the X-men had been decimated. The one thing sparing him most right now was that unlike Asher, he hadn't yet seen the list of casualties being carved on the Solarium wall.

He might have been good at keeping a handle on his mental stress, but his body was another thing — his feet were killing him. He stitched up his last patient for the moment and allowed himself the luxury of taking a break. He found a seat not in his office – it was simply too far away – but in a quiet area not far from the Lab holding cells.

Beast dumped his large blue body into a chair, removed his sanitary medical booties and rubbed his feet, smiling a bit at how much better that felt. Having furry, clawed feet made it difficult when it came to shoes and most often, he simply went without. While that was okay most days, times like this when he was on his feet for hours, he could really have used some real support. He rubbed harder, growling softly with pleasure.

His little quiet moment alone was interrupted however - a flicker of movement caught his eye and he looked up to see Star peeking out at him from one the tiny holding cells, her face lit with a kind of playful curiosity.

She hadn't been returned to him long, and quite frankly, he had forgotten she was back here. She had been placed in a cell but hadn't been sealed inside. The program controls had been set so that she could lock the door herself if she wished or felt threatened, but it wasn't required. She had been ordered to stay inside and had been good. Even now she hadn't slipped outside, she was just poking her head out, watching him with great interest.

"Yous okay?" she asked softly.

"Yes, it's just been quite a day," he replied, smiling a little. Even from her distance, she had cheered him up a bit. It was in the brightness of her eyes.

"I kin helps you."

"It's okay, I'm fine," he answered automatically. He was concerned for her safety and didn't want to trouble her. There was little she could do for him really, what he seriously needed was some rest and that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, not with the crowd of people still flooding his Lab.

There was a soft rush of air and then she was there, standing in front of him. She had broken her orders and had come out, gliding across the floor in that graceful Siskan way and was next kneeling down to take one of his large clawed feet into her hands.

"That isn't necessary, my dear. You should go back..." Henry started to say, but was forced to halt as those tiny hands of hers worked their magic and he was flooded with relief and pleasure. The reality was, he couldn't possibly remember the last time he'd had a real hands on foot rub and well, for the moment anyhow, it was possibly better than sex – not that he'd had all that much of that lately...

"Yer funny," Star chuckled softly, amused by his obvious pleasure. She was well trained in the many arts of Courtesanship and she was no slouch when it came to massage. His feet were large and clawed, but she had touched enough Dognan men and women that it didn't faze her in the least. His fur was soft and plushy, a joy to touch.

"Only one of my many talents," he gently teased in return, feeling much better now. While he hadn't intended to be flirtatious, he saw by the slow slant of her widening smile that she had taken it that way. More than a little embarrassed, he tried to make his escape, stammering, "I really should get back to work..."

Star wasn't going to let him go so easily. Emboldened by his words, pleased that he had enjoyed her ministrations enough to let his guard slip just a little, she squeezed his foot just a little harder, releasing a small puff of sparkling Morrowhiem from her fingers, just enough to ease the ache in his bones. She wasn't trying to take him over or bind him with her magic, she was just impressed enough by him to want to make some sort of move. She wanted him to like her.

The moment her glitter sank into his skin, Henry's eyes opened wide and he shuddered hard, he couldn't help it. The massage alone had been heavenly enough, but this was real heat and pleasure. She hadn't hidden her actions, he knew well enough what she had done. This was no different than that time Kimble had touched a badly broken Sabretooth, only this time the Morrowhiem was visible. He had seen Asher use this for both Kimble and Aiden and he knew well enough what it was. He just hadn't expected it to be used on himself or that it would feel so wonderful. It felt great yes, but it had done more than that – he was a bit aroused by it and couldn't trust himself to stand. It momentarily stunned him, he wasn't sure what her intentions were. Did she do this because she wanted to or felt she had to? Was it a trick?

Star glanced up at him, her smile shy and without guile. While she had wanted him to like her, it had been because she was interested in him and wanted to keep his attention, not because she was planning trouble. Her smile dimmed a bit when she saw his confusion. The truth was she had never been in the company of someone so sexually restrained, it hadn't occurred to her that even this small exchange would unsettle him so. "I kin helps people," she said in the hopes that it would ease his mind. "M' title, it's Rejuvinator. I kin makes people heals. When m' Master wuz hurt, I made it goes away."

She had Henry's attention now. His moods shifted quickly, the scientist in him automatically shoving all other concerns aside. "You can heal people by touching them?"

"Yeah."

"From serious injury or just aches and pains?" he asked, unable to hide his excitement. He was thinking of all the wounded he still had out there in the Lab, some of them gravely so. Any hope he could be given would be enough to rob him from any other thought.

Star blinked at him, hesitating. She could see he was focused on her completely, his embarrassment forgotten. She wanted him to pay attention to her yes, but this was dangerous ground. "From both, but when I use m' powers real strong..."

"Yes?"

"Sometimes... sometimes the one bein' healed kin ... kin hurts me back without meanin' to."

"Hurt you back in what way?" Beast asked though the idea was already dawning on him quickly enough. Just that one taste of Morrowhiem had aroused him, though that had been squashed quickly as his focus had shifted. He had been able to overcome that, but if she had used more... would he have been able to hold himself back?

"It's okay, cuz I knows they don't really means it," she replied, not answering him directly. She could see in his shine that he was already beginning to understand. Already he was showing far more intelligence and awareness than any Master she had known. It made him that much more attractive to her, though who her next owner would be hadn't been yet been decided. "I only fix m' Masters on account that they use me that way anyhow..."

"Then all the more reason to keep you apart from everyone," Henry suggested. He was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to use her for healings, but he wouldn't see her come to harm. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

Star's smile brightened at that, she could see he genuinely cared for her and it made her happy. "Will you come sees me again? It's awful lonely back here by m'selfs."

"Yes, I promise," he said, rising to his feet. He had to get back to work, he had tarried here too long as it was. He felt wonderful now, refreshed, as though he'd had a long deep nap and a nice warm shower. He was amazed that with one touch alone she had made him feel so much better. He would keep his promise, he had enjoyed this brief moment with her and wanted more, but for now, he simply had too much to do. "I'll bring you something to eat. Would you like that?"

Her whole face lit up with happiness. "Oh, yes!"

"Excellent. I'll be back shortly." He gently brushed his hand over her head with great affection and then he was gone.

Star watched him go, her heart filled with happiness and for the first time in a long time – hope. There might be a chance that he would want her and take her for his own. Nothing would please her more. Unlike the Dognan warriors she had known all her life, this one had a gentle heart and a loving soul in spite of a drive that kept him to isolation. He would never hurt her or neglect her, she knew that. Only time would tell the rest, if he would choose her or not.

**(break)**

Gambit tried to run, he really did, but today just wasn't going to go his way.

He had told Seth he was going to wash up, but instead had headed right for the nearest doorway out and away. What he hadn't counted on was that the doorways out were being watched and not necessarily by X-men.

He had gone straight up through the Complex and towards the big front lobby, all gleaming with glass and elegant indoor shrubbery. The lobby was really for show and was empty most of the time, but it was now momentarily congested with people - not all of the Outkasts that Butch had left behind were being allowed to roam freely and were now bargaining for clearances to the lower levels.

Remy, intent on his escape, blundered his way into the lobby, his head down and his mind on other things, thinking only of the door. He made it halfway into the crowded room before he froze, his hackles rising immediately as alarm bells suddenly went off inside his brain, his self preservation gears whirling swiftly into action. There had been a rather lively conversation going on in here when he first entered, but it dropped off sharply after his first few steps. He had been daydreaming as he had walked in here - he had a lot on his mind, so he did - but his mind emptied rapidly at the sudden silence and he was riveted in place, unused to the attention of a whole room being focused solely on him.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat drug in."

Gambit looked up at the familiar gravelly voice and the last of his blood drained from his face.

The man before him was horribly disfigured from an unfortunate accident - the accident of his being born a mutant. His face was all brown scales and one huge jaw, sprouting enormous fangs. A face only a mother could love... or one a thief could never forget.

A flash of images passed quickly through Remy's brain, almost too rapidly for him to see. For the second time today he was back there, back in time to that fateful day. The day he had lost his soul forever. Gambit saw again the stone cold Morlock tunnel, heard an impatient growl that could only be Sabretooth's. "We in yet, punk?"

"Just 'old y' water, M'seau 'Tooth. We got de one last door, den we in."

A rusty door moved open, unlocked by a clever thief's aid, and a group of people were revealed, standing on the other side, bewildered at the unexpected intrusion. One of those faces had belonged to the man who was standing in front of Gambit now. "Intruders!" he had screamed that day, just as Creed lashed out with his claws. Only quick reflexes had spared his life. Spared it so he could stand here now and accuse.

"As I live an' breathe! It's him!" the man gasped, bringing Gambit back to the cold harsh reality of the Xavier Complex lobby.

"Who is it, Barley? Why are you looking at him like that?" said one of his companions, another of Butch Madison's people.

Barley didn't answer him, but shouted to the back of the room instead, "Hey, Marrow! Get yer boney ass over here!"

Gambit was still just standing there, his body rudely ignoring his flight or fight response by keeping him locked in place, the only thing moving on him was the thunderous beating of his heart as it threatened to accelerate itself until it burst. His shame and humiliation kept him immobile, kept him here to see what was coming, something he surely deserved. He watched numbly as another of Madison's people came forward, a young girl. Like Barley, she was disfigured and clearly a Morlock as well. Bones protruded from all over her body and Remy watched in horror as she raised her arm and yanked one of those protrusions out from the limb itself, a jagged shard of herself, a living knife. She was responding to the tone of Barley's voice, a man she clearly respected.

"What is it, Barley? Do ya want it dead?" she replied, her eyes full of malice and hatred. Her smile was wicked and cruel. She was as feral as they came, a young murderess, Remy could see. That wasn't all he saw, no. His mouth was hanging open now, the shock of her appearance too much for him to hide.

"C'est impossible...!" he wheezed in recognition, a sharp stabbing pain slicing right through his chest.

It was **her!** The child he had grabbed on the way out of the Morlock tunnels! Creed had ripped him open and he had fled for his life, but not before he had grabbed a child on his way out. How could he forget her? She had been little more than an toddler then, four years old at best. She had been hard to hold, not so much because she was terrified and crying, but because she was covered with bony plates, plates that had protruded from her even then. Her hair was a bright magenta, just as it was now only it had darkened some with age. She had been taken from him at the hospital by Social Services when he had said she wasn't his. They were aware of the Massacre by then and figured she was an orphan now. He never saw her again, not until now. Here she was, that very same child, fourteen years older and showing all that 'I'm an orphan, my family's been slaughtered hate' clear as day in her eyes.

"Marrow, meet Remy LeBeau. **The** Remy LeBeau," Barley sneered. "Might need more 'n one bone fer him, my dear."

"You!" she snarled. "You killed my people!"

Remy was still frozen, even as he saw her launch herself at him. That bone dagger came towards him, held in one outstretched hand. It was all coming to him in slow motion - her sneer of hatred, her bared teeth. Bone shard dagger, still red with blood from her own body. It came at him and he made no sound as it plunged toward his chest, striking him and shattering against the Kevlar body armor he had so thoughtfully put on that morning. It was like being shot by a bullet against a bulletproof vest. Sure, it deflected the blow, but he felt the impact of it as if she had hit him with a sledgehammer.

_Right over 'm 'eart, just where it should've been,_ he thought to himself as if in a dream. He was falling backwards to the floor, splinters from the now shattered dagger cutting his face. He felt the impact of his body hitting the ground from a great distance, like it was happening to someone else.

**_/ Close your eyes,_** Shi'ow-ri whispered with a terrible sadness. **_It's over now. /_**

There were shouts now all around him, words like weapons flying around the room. A scuffle was taking place, but he didn't hear them. Instead he felt them as powerful vibrations of anger and murderous intent and was swamped by it, choking on that right along with the renewed guilt from his terrible crime. His lungs locked up tight, robbing him of air. It was a fine companion to the horrible pain in his chest, a pain that was shooting all down the left side of his body, his heart was bursting as if her dagger had actually struck it. Stars sparkled across his eyes and blurred his vision.

The girl had traveled with him to the floor, her body weight adding to the impact. She was torn from him a moment later, foam flying from her mouth as she continued to scream curses at him. He thought he saw a flash of Molly's face, but it was so unlike her - this face was howling and claws were flying, and Molly just wasn't like that. Not his sweet precious wife, so loving and fine. The one he had never deserved. The shouts increased, crushing him, even as he felt warm spatter on his face, drops of red colored rain coming down on him from above.

Remy lay as he was, hearing none of it. He was only dimly aware of the lights fading away and a strange whooshing sound in his ears, like too many people shouting at once. He tried to breathe, but it just wasn't happening. He was slipping away when soft warm fingers were brushing his face, turning his head. Flash of red hair, bright green eyes. Jean.

_Remy, you in there? _her telepathic voice came to him from a great distance. **_Remy!_**

He had no will to respond. Darkness took him.

To be continued in Learning To Fly part two - Flight.


End file.
